Concealing Enigma
by CoffeeWritingAddiction
Summary: Nicky and Lorna befriend each other in elementary school. Both completely unaware of the dark secrets that each of them harbors. A horrifying situation ensues and all they have is each other to aide in their survival. When they come across a middle-aged Russian woman, after the ordeal is behind them, how will they move forward with their lives once she takes them in? Lorna/Nicky.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own the show or characters. All I own is the story and writing.**

 **Author's Note: So, I've been into watching these horribly sad murder documentaries lately...and they kind of gave me some ideas for a new story. A dark, twisted, angst-filled story, of course. This story starts off with Nicky and Lorna as young elementary-aged children. That will only last for the first couple of chapters as to give background information on their pasts. I hope it's interesting for those who read this; feel free to leave a review with feedback. Thanks in advance.**

 **Update (8/19/18): I've decided to re-title this story Concealing Enigma as I feel it suits the plot better. I'm currently working on chapter six, finally, and hope to update very soon. I'm so sorry I've seemed to neglect this story but I promise I haven't.**

 **Warning: This story is for mature readers only. This contains dark, angst-filled writing. Childhood abuse/neglectful parent. Not for the faint of heart.**

* * *

 _Concealing Enigma_

"Nicole, get your lazy ass up before you damn well miss that bus," Marka Nichols yells impatiently up the stairs. She's sick of her nine-year-old daughter refusing to wake up every morning. Not only does this vicious cycle make the rambunctious daughter of hers miss the bus but it makes her late for work and that angers her. She's spent a good deal of her time dedicated to that beloved job and there's no way she can allow her own child to ruin that for her.

With a budding exasperation, the impatient mother quickly marches her way up the stairs and into her daughter's bedroom. Her hands fold around either side of her hips as she stares gallingly at her still snoozing child. She jogs over to the bed, harshly ripping the comforter off of her and yanking her up by the ear.

"Do you enjoy making your mother late for work? You little brat; you're nothing but trouble," Marka bitterly growls out. She tightens her hold on the child's ear, pulling her out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

Nicole rolls her eyes. Her mother cares more about work than she does of her own daughter, she knows. "Why are ya so mean, mom? And I need to change—ya can't make me go to school in _pajamas_!"

A hand swipes rough against the redhead's cheek. "Don't you insult me, Nicole. I am your mother; I gave you life and a place to live. You ungrateful child, you. Oh, believe me, I can and will make you go to school in that. You chose to sleep in and sacrifice your time to get ready so guess what? Now, you have to pay the consequence," she retorts, dragging her out the kitchen door to their car.

* * *

Eight-year-old Lorna Morello timidly walks around the playground—during recess—looking for a friend to play with. Her family only moved here a few days ago and, so far, she has yet to make a friend. No one seems interested in her, it seems. She sighs. She knew moving to a new state—in the middle of a school year—wouldn't turn out good.

She's about to give up on her friendship quest when she notices another young girl seeming to play all alone on the basketball court – kicking a ball from one side to the other, over and over. A smile spreads on her face. Lorna skips her way over to the girl, the smile on her face only growing.

"Hi, I'm Lorna," her voice bubbly greets, a very prominent Boston accent seeping through. "Me and my family just moved here! What's your name?"

The somewhat taller child turns away from her basketball and looks across at her. She smirks. "Yeah, I can tell ya ain't from around here. Ya got a weird accent," a small chuckle escapes. "Where you guys from? I'm Nicky."

Lorna's eyes widen at the comment. She grumbles slightly, not sure if coming over here was such a good idea. Her arms cross defiantly over her chest as she stares at the redhead. "Well, your accent ain't much better. We came here from Boston cause of my daddy's dumb job. It sucks because I hadda leave all my friends and ain't no one here is nice. I guess they ain't nice to you either since you're over here by yourself?"

Shrugging her shoulders, Nicky kicks the ball across the court. Her brown eyes pierce strongly into the smaller child's. "I don't care for any a these idiots. They're all younger than me anyway… I had to stay back a year because of my bad grades. Marka doesn't care so why should I, ay?" She sighs, almost feeling a tang of sadness rush through her. Sometimes—rather all the time—she just longs for her mother to act like a mother. As quickly as the sensation came, it leaves and she chuckles. "Ya need a friend? I guess maybe you could hang around with me. Long as ya don't mind being known as the class failure!"

"Who's Marka? Your sister?" The brunette arches her eyebrow in confusion. She smiles, though, and shakes her head. "Ya seem nice, I wouldn't mind being friends with you. Sides' I ain't that smart neither…at least that's what daddy says."

Nicky lets out a loud laugh, her messy curls bouncing with the shake of her head. "Marka's my mother. But she surely don't act like it. That's fine, though, cause' I don't gotta worry about my grades or nothing. Ya know, since we both suck at school, how bout' we skip the rest of it?" Her big eyes gaze over at the other, a hidden gleam in them.

"Your mom lets ya call her by name? That's disrespectful…my parents would give me and my siblings a good whoopin' if we ever called them by name," Lorna informs, her eyes wide to hear that. They widen even more at the other's suggestion. Her parents would send her away if she ever decided to skip school. But the thought brings a rush of adrenaline over her body and she finds herself slowly nodding her head.

The taller child smirks, grabbing Lorna's hand, and runs behind the school—towards the woods—with her. "Marka doesn't care," she answers as they make their way through the muddy swamp.

Lorna looks down at her shoes with an increasing concern. She has no clue how she's going to explain this to her father. These shoes were brand new and she knows they'll be her last pair for a long while.

Letting out a light chuckle, Nicky pats her shoulder and continues to pull her through the woods—finally reaching the other side, which leads to the local shopping center. "Ya ain't into hiking, are ya?"

"Well, I wouldn't say that…it's just these are new shoes and I don't want my parents to find out I ain't in school," the brown-haired child blabbers out. She's always done her best to please her parents and is sickened with herself for giving in to some random girl she met on the playground. She'll have to spend the weekend cleaning for sure now, she knows.

"Eh, we can clean them before ya go home. Trust me, I do this all the time and no one ever notices. We'll be fine."

* * *

"Oooh, Lorna," her older brother taunts when she comes in through the living room's door. A snicker escapes. "Mom and dad ain't too happy with ya! Better do some extra chores if ya wanna avoid a whoopin'."

Lorna purposely ignores him and skips her way into the kitchen where she notices her mother's hovering over the stove. She sets her bookbag down in the tiny closet off the side before walking over to see what the older woman's cooking. "Hi mom; I made a friend today!"

Stansie Morello stirs the sauce quickly, putting the lid on to keep it from bubbling over, and turns to face her youngest child. She lets out a sigh, crossing her arms over her chest. "How's come your brother says ya weren't on the bus? You made dad and I about have heart attacks. What the hell were you thinkin', Lorna Antonette?"

"I'm sorry mom. My new friend and I kinda decided to walk home instead…I didn't mean to make ya worry and I promise it won't happen again."

Her mother rubs her forehead warily. "You're damn right it ain't happening again. Your father is about ready to kill ya for what ya pulled today," she informs, a tired gleam shining through her hazel eyes. She inhales sharply and points her finger over to the table, "Get it set for supper. Maybe dad won't be so harsh on ya if he sees ya helpin' me out."

* * *

Nicky grudgingly makes her way up the sidewalk to her house. She hopes her mother's still at work; at least, that gives her some time to be alone and regroup after such a tiring afternoon of running around the city. Her hopes are quickly vanished when she walks in the kitchen door and sees her mother sitting at the island with what seems to be a glass of champagne—or another one of those fancy rich people drinks she prefers to wash down.

"Oh, you know what Paul? Lemme call you back. My delinquent daughter just walked in," Marka waves her hand in the air as if the man's sitting right beside her. She quickly ends the call, placing the phone in the pocket of her blouse. A deep breath is exhaled. Her brown eyes gaze heavily across into her daughter's. "Mind explaining why I got a call from the school? They tell me you weren't in any of your afternoon classes. Where were you, Nicole?"

The child shakes her head with an irritated groan. "Since when do you care what I do? You never bother to ask what I do at school or nothing. But now, cause' some idiot principal claims I skipped school, you have a problem?"

To hear her daughter speak in such a hardened tone makes Marka roughly stand up from the stool and march her way over to the short girl. She glares darkly into her eyes, raising a hand to smack gruffly against her cheek. "You keep your tone down, little girl. I'm the mother here and I will not have you speaking like that to me. You better not pull this stunt again or I'll make your life hell. I'm sick of your shit. Now get to work on your homework. I don't need to have a ten-year-old in third grade next year," her voice nearly shouts in Nicky's face. She gives her a hard push towards the table.

Nicky rolls her eyes, throwing the backpack on the floor and taking out her notebook. She sits down at the table, giving a piercing stare towards her mother. "I'm nine, Marka. You can't even remember my age, what a mom you are!"

"Marka? Did you seriously just call me Marka?" Miss Nichols shakes her head in a fury. She walks over to the sink, grabs a glass from the cupboard above it, and fills it with steaming hot water. Walking over towards her daughter, she viciously pours the water over her and yanks her up out of the chair.

"You are the biggest mistake I've ever made. You're disrespectful, ungrateful, and a goby little brat. I should of got rid of you when I had the damn chance," she cruelly retorts, throwing her to the ground and retreating to the living room with her phone.

The redhead withers against the cold wooden floor, her body still burning from such hot water. She feels tears leaking out; she bites the inside of her mouth and forces herself up. Her legs instinctively take her towards the staircase, they take two steps at a time until she reaches the top where she jogs into the bathroom. Quickly, her hands reach for the knob of the tub—turning it so that it's as cold as it can be before she climbs inside. She lets her body soak in the refreshing cold water. The tears slowly fade. She sighs and lets herself relax. She liked it better when her mom flat out chose to ignore her. If this is how her mother's going to give her attention, Nicky's not sure she can handle it.

* * *

Nicky runs to school, the next morning, before her mother has the chance to even look at her. She smiles when she sees a familiar brunette sitting in the desk right beside her own. Her pace fastens as she enters inside her third-grade classroom. After placing her bookbag on its assigned hook in the back of the classroom, she jogs over to sit at her desk.

"How'd it go last night? Did your parents find out about our school incident?" Nicky wonders with a small smile lurking on her face.

Lorna pops her head up from her book and turns to look at her new friend. A smile spreads across her face, she shakes her head. "Nah, they didn't know a thing. What bout' you, Nicky?" She looks at the taller child beside her and notices a few red marks across her face; the sight concerns her somewhat. "What happened to your face?"

The redhead nearly gulps, staring down at the doodles in her notebook. She didn't realize just how hard her mother slapped her and wish she would have, so she could have properly covered it up. "Oh, uh, ya know—I just smacked my face on one of our glass doors. I didn't realize it was closed," she lets out a slight laugh, one that she hopes is believable. When the other laughs as well, she smiles. But then, as she gets a closer look at her, Nicky notices a faint bruise on Lorna's forehead.

"Don't tell me ya got a glass door to? Looks like ya hit your head good," she jokes, not sure what to make of it.

The brunette covers her mouth; she didn't realize the belt her father smacked her with left any marks. But she quickly nods to Nicky's question and plasters a huge grin on her face. "Sounds like we're both real clutzy! We're gonna make such great friends, Nicky," she gently infers, staring at the other.

Nicky grabs her hand and squeezes it with a small chuckle. "I bet we will be, kid."


	2. Chapter 2

**Warnings: Child abuse, abusive parents, minor drug use, and kidnapping.**

 **Author's Note: Thanks for leaving such lovely (and motivational) reviews Kyla and hollyhalebnichorelloregelolove. Sorry for taking so long with this chapter...just been busy working on my other story.**

* * *

 _Chapter Two_

The past four years has been a mix of greatness and darkness for Nicky Nichols. Her friendship with Lorna is as strong as ever but the relationship between she and her mother is something that's merely absent. Marka spends the majority of her days at work and those that aren't spent there, she spends with her newfound 'love' Paolo. Nicky prefers to have the house to herself. When her mother is home, she forces all of her rage onto the adolescent daughter of hers—hitting and beating her until her arms and legs are covered in a layer of fresh bruising.

* * *

The sound of the living room door slamming shut has Nicky immediately tense up. She sits in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal and stops mid-crunch. _Please ignore me,_ her mind silently screams. When she hears footsteps fading up the stairs, a rush of relief floods through her and she quickly finishes her food. To further escape her mother's wrath, she decides to head out of the house for the night—maybe see if she can stay at Lorna's house, a house that's become almost a second home to her.

It's only a five-minute walk from door-to-door, Nicky's come to realize in the numerous times she's gone to her best friend's house these past four years. She waits on the porch, after ringing the doorbell, and notices a familiar piece of clothing thrown over one of the rusty swings. One of Lorna's favorites, she knows; her eyebrows arch in curiosity. Why is it sitting out here in the midst of winter? She doesn't think that the short brunette would ever leave it out here.

The sound of the door rustling from the inside brings Nicky out of her thoughts. Yelling and faint sniffling rain her ears. The Morello's surely aren't afraid of neighbors—or friends—hearing their problematic family issues.

"Hey, Nicky," Lorna plasters a grin on her face when she opens the door to see her best friend's standing there. She walks outside, closing it, and grabs the other's hand. "Let's go walk around the city—it's so pretty this time a year, don't ya think?"

Big brown eyes ponder uneasily over her. Nicky senses the vague freight in the brunette's tone—as if she just walked out of a horrific crime scene or something. She follows suit, wrapping her arm gently around her friend's shoulder. "You okay, kid? Sounds like a screaming match was going on…everything okay?" Her fingertips brush lightly along Lorna's arm.

Smiling, Lorna nods and squeezes the taller girl's hand. "I'm fine. Just needed outta that house. Ya know how loud my family can be! That's how we Italians are, Nicky, it's natural. How are you? Has your mom come back from that ridiculously long business trip yet? You know you can always come stay with us when she's outta town…I don't want ya to be all alone in that big house! I mean what if some scary bad guy comes and tries to kill ya?!"

With a chuckle, the redhead shakes her head and gives a small kiss to the other's head. "Yeah, she just came back today…lucky me. At least she's back to ignoring me. Wouldn't wanna make her feel like she's got a daughter who needs her. Nah, I'm fine—I like havin' the house to myself. Don't worry, kid; I could fend for myself if someone breaks in," she answers with a smirk.

* * *

The two continue their walk down into the busy New York City—a mere twenty-minutes from the Morello house—making small talk throughout. A small coffee shop off the corner of the street catches Lorna's eye; she grabs Nicky's hand and yanks her inside the building. The overwhelming aroma of sugary goodness hits their noses immediately when they step inside.

"Smells like heaven in here, don't it Nicky?" The bubbly brunette squeals, cheerfully pulling her friend over to the counter to wait in line. Sure, she knows her parents won't be too fond of she's purchasing an expensive coffee—especially when money is tight—but she can't help the impulse.

Nicky chuckles and slightly rolls her eyes. "Smells like a heart attack waitin' to happen," she lightly jokes but follows behind her. Coffee is a favored drink, that's for sure, but all the sugar and cream make her want to gag. She prefers plain black coffee, and that's what she plans on ordering.

"Hey Nichols—the hell ya doin' here?" A familiar voice calls out from a table near the entrance.

The redhead quickly turns to see who's called her name. A sigh escapes when she sees it's Boo—a high school sophomore who's somehow befriended her after finding her scampering about in an alleyway at only ten-years-old. She slowly brings a hand up to wave at her, "Oh, uh, hi Boo. Just strollin' the city with my best friend…and wanted some coffee." It's not that she doesn't like the girl…she just knows she's into drugs and will encourage both Lorna and herself to try them out. Of course, drugs aren't a problem for her but the last thing she wants is to introduce such an innocent person like Lorna into a horribly nasty habit.

Boo looks at the girl beside her—a petite and slender brunette—and laughs. "The little Morello girl? I know her sister—what are ya doin' hanging around some Catholic good-doer, huh?"

"Shut up!" The wild-haired preteen lets out an irritated shout. Her brown orbs glare darkly across the room into Boo's. "She's been my best friend since third-grade, don't be talkin' shit bout' her. She's the sweetest friend anyone could ever ask for," Nicky curtly responds.

Looking over the menu, Lorna feels her cheeks heat up at Nicky's sticking up for her. A small smile makes it way to her face; she gives a grateful squeeze to the other's hand.

Shaking her head, the teenager chuckles while sipping on her beverage. She continues to stare at the pair of them. "Jesus, Nichols, it's a joke. Come over here and sit—the both of ya," she suggests with a smirk, motioning her hand towards the two empty chairs on the other side of the table.

After quickly ordering and receiving their coffees, the two adolescent tweens make their way over to her table—claiming the two seats opposite her. Nicky looks at the short brunette beside her and gestures her hand towards the older teen on the other side. "This is Boo—she's in high school and thinks she's all that," the redhead mutters with a smirk. Her eyes dart over to Boo, "This is my best friend, Lorna…who isn't just a good-doer Catholic."

Lorna nods in agreement. "Yeah, I've done some things that I should probably go to confession for. So, uh, _there_."

Both the older girls can't help but chuckle—Nicky good-naturedly and Boo teasingly. The black-haired teen smirks, crossing her arms over her chest and stares intently at the young Italian. "And what would that be? For not doing your homework once?"

"I always do my homework," the brunette covers her mouth when she realizes she's only proving the fact. She sighs and rolls her eyes.

Nicky pats her thigh under the table and glares heavily at the girl across from them. "Just stop it. Why does it matter anyway? I rather be friends with a nice girl like Lorna than some incompetent fool. What do ya want, Boo? Why did ya intrude on our evening?"

Reaching into her jean jacket's pocket, Boo takes out two newly bought packs of cigarettes. She holds one up to give to Nicky, "I picked these up at a gas station…thought ya might like a pack for yourself. What about little Lorna there—ya ever smoke a cig?" A laughing smirk sits on her face as she notices the wide eyes displayed on the brunette's.

Lorna gulps. She shakes her head and looks uneasily at the rectangular packages the two others hold. "Dad says smoking is the devil's act. They kill you," she nervously states, her eyes peering concerningly beside her at her best friend. "Please don't use em', Nicky…I don't want the devil to take you!"

"Kid, don't listen to your dad. These won't kill me…or make the devil take me. Don't worry bout' it," the redhead gently assures her, grabbing her hand and giving it a comforting squeeze.

Nodding her head, Boo opens her pack and gets out two cigarettes. She hands one in the youngest girl's direction, "The devil actually hates these things. Ya know, if ya have one it might just keep ya safe from him. Ya don't want the devil to devour your soul, yeah?"

Nicky shakes her head angrily, pushing Boo's hand away from her friend. Her eyes glare into the teen's with irritation. "Don't fuckin' manipulate her into doing something she doesn't wanna do, Boo. Jesus. You'll get her in trouble with her parents—ya really want that for her?" She throws out her question, ripping out a cigarette of her own.

"Whatever. I'm just yankin' her chains. I don't care if she doesn't want one…more for me," the older girl answers while getting her lighter out of her satchel and lighting up the cigarette. She hands it over to Nicky, so she can do the same.

Watching the two with arched eyebrows, Lorna takes a sip of her cappuccino. She looks at the cigarettes they hold between their fingers and wonders why so many people choose to smoke them. They don't look very appealing, she thinks. "What do they taste like?"

"Like sweet, sweet relief of every damn stress in the world," Boo lets out a smoky breath of air.

Shaking her head, Nicky looks intently at the brunette beside her and answers, "Bitter, bitter coffee…ya wouldn't like it, kid. Believe me, ya ain't missin' nothin'."

Lorna scrunches her nose in disgust. "Oh, ew, yeah I'd never wanna have one a those then. I like sugar in my coffee and lots of cream!"

With a chuckle, the redhead nods and wraps an arm around her shoulder. "Ya mean ya like a little bit a coffee in your creamy sugar," she adjusts her wording with a friendly smile on her face.

* * *

A few hours later, Lorna decides it's best she heads home before her parents send out a search party for her. She reluctantly tells Nicky goodbye—already longing for school tomorrow as she hates being trapped inside her room just to avoid her own father's wrath. Slowly, she trudges her way up the stairs of her porch and cautiously opens the house's door.

"Lorna, ya better get upstairs…dad's pissed! Come on, hurry, before he sees you," an overly concerned Franny shouts, getting up off her place on the couch and walking over to her adolescent sister.

The brunette rolls her eyes with a heavy sigh. "He's always so angry," she mutters sadly, but quickens her pace towards the stairway that sits to the right of the kitchen. She's nearly halfway up when her dad's voice yells out behind her. Immediately, panic takes over; she feels her body freeze in its place. Her heart pounds faster.

Franny quickly forces her the rest of the way up the stairs and pulls her down the hall into her room—locking the door behind them. She sits Lorna on her bed and takes a good look at her. "Where the fuck were ya? And why do ya smell like cigarettes? Ya know what mom and dad will do if they find out ya've been smoking," her tone stern with anger but her eyes filled with worry and concern as she frames her hands around the child's face.

"Nicky and I just went for a walk and ended up at a coffee shop. I didn't touch any cigarettes, I swear," the younger brunette scrunches her nose up at the thought of actually trying one. "After what Nicky said they taste like, I'd never wanna put one of those nasty things anywhere near my mouth. I swear, Fran! All I did was drink coffee."

"Nicky smokes? Are ya fucking kidding me? Ain't she only a year older than you? Great…just what ya need a friend who smokes and probably hangs around drug users. Lorna, ya better think real hard about your life here. Do you really wanna be friends with someone who's already down the path of drugs?"

Lorna frowns and turns away from her sister. "Stop it! Nicky's good. She's my best friend. So what if she uses cigarettes? They ain't that bad, Franny! Dad's lying."

Crossing her arms over her chest, the older girl shake her head. She forcefully turns her sister's face to stare at her. "She's twelve, Lorna, _that's_ the fucking bad thing. Twelve-year-old's shouldn't be fucking walkin' round' the damn streets with one of them nasty things between their fingers. What's her mother doing letting her child smoke fucking cigarettes for?!"

That question triggers angry tears to well up in Lorna's brown eyes. She grabs one of the pillows on the back of the bed and tosses it harshly across the room. "Her mom don't care about her, Franny! She's always on stupid business trips and ignoring Nicky," she cries out, her eyes gazing down at the floor.

Hearing that makes Franny all but regret her words. A sigh escapes her. Now it all makes sense. She pulls the upset brunette into her arms for a soothing embrace and gives a motherly kiss to the top of her head. "Is there anyone else who lives with her? What about her dad?"

"I ain't ever met him. She never says anything about her dad or if she even has one…it ain't my business to ask," Lorna points out with a sniffle, nuzzling herself closer into her older sister's embrace. "Ya think mom would let her stay here when hers is away? I don't want Nicky to be all by herself in that big house…specially at night."

Exhaling out a deep breath, Franny shrugs. She stares down into her brown eyes. "I don't think that would be a smart idea, Lorn. Not with the way dad is. He'd try to abuse her the same way he does to us and I don't think that would be fair," she truthfully responds, brushing a hand softly through Lorna's short curls.

The brunette frowns. But then it hits her, "I can stay with her then when her mom's gone. That's good, ain't it? I could get away from dad and make sure no one breaks in her house and kills her." She nods enthusiastically with a bright smile.

Unfortunately, before Franny has a chance to respond, the door is kicked open and in comes their drunken and rage-driven father. His cold eyes glare darkly down into his youngest daughter's. "What's this I hear bout' ya just comin' home, huh? The fuck did ya go, Lorna? Ya better hope it was church or you're gonna find yourself in a lotta pain!" Mr. Morello grabs harshly onto her arm, yanking her up from the bed and dragging her down the hall to the bathroom.

Once in there, he throws her inside of the tub and rummages through the cabinet for a razor. The razor tightly in his hands, he walks back over to the terrified child and begins tracing it down her head—watching gleefully as clumps of hair fall onto the bottom of the tub. "This oughta teach ya never to disobey your father again. Ungrateful shit," he spits at her, continuing until there's nothing left on her head but a few bleeding cuts.

* * *

Nicky wakes up early the next morning to the feeling of her mother's rough pull on her legs. Mixtures of rage and fear pulse through her. She glares up into the woman's eyes. "Leave me alone, Marka," she grunts out before feeling her body clunk harshly against the wooden floor in front of her bed. The impact causes a jolt of pain to rush through her.

"Call me Marka one more time and see what the hell happens, little girl," the woman seethes, swinging her hand to smack gruffly against Nicky's slowly tearing face. "I'm so sick of this little attitude of yours, Nicole. Get your ass dressed and ready for school, _now_. You're already late as it is—meaning I'm late too. You little ungrateful child. You just love making my life hell, huh?" She goes over to Nicky's closet and throws clothes at her.

Slowly pushing herself into a standing position, Nicky rigorously massages her temples to rid herself of the pain. She picks up the scattered clothes and throws them back at her angry mother. "Fuck you. You're hardly ever here—you don't even care that I'm your daughter! Why the fuck should I address you as mom when ya don't act like one? If I make your life that bad why the fuck don't ya give me up for adoption? I'd be happy to get away from you," she cries out, sticking her middle finger up in her face before running out of the room.

* * *

Walking into her morning class—nearly a half-hour late—Nicky's ears perk up when she hears an exchange of hurtful words to a certain brunette sitting in the back of the room. Instinctively, she frisks her way to Lorna's side—her eyes glaring at the person picking on her. "Get away from her," she lowly growls, sliding a protective arm around the petite girl's waist.

Once the person's gone, Nicky focuses her eyes on Lorna. She notices the hat on her head and finds that odd. Concern overpowers her. "What's with the hat, kid? I don't think I've ever seen ya wear one before," her words cautiously spoke.

Lorna tries so hard to keep the pain from showing. She places a weak smile on her face, shrugging slightly. "Just, uh, figured I'd try a new fashion trend. What do ya think, Nicky?"

"I think something's seriously wrong here."

The brunette sighs. She shakes her head and turns away from the other.

Nicky grunts out a frustrated breath. She reaches over for Lorna's hand, pulling into her own, and holds it for the rest of the class. When the bell finally rings, and students start filing out, she grabs Lorna's head and gently turns it so that they're gazing at each other. "Talk. No one else is here. Tell me what happened. Why are ya wearing a hat, Lorna?"

"Can we not talk about it right now? I mean the day ain't even half-way over, Nicky…"

"Fuck this place," Nicky rolls her eyes and pulls the brunette up with her. She keeps her hand held tight in her own, leading her out of the classroom and down the hall to one of the back exits. "You and I—we need to have a talk, kid. There's obviously some real bad shit going on with both of us and we just, we need to talk about it. So what if we skip a day a school? It'll still be sitting here tomorrow."

* * *

The pair of them make their way to a secluded gas station—miles away from the school—and sit down on the grass far behind the minimart. Nicky sighs, taking Lorna's hand back into hers—her fingers brushing delicately against her knuckles. "What's the hat for, kid? Take it off for me," she tenderly commands.

"I can't," the younger girl timidly responds, hiding her face in her knees.

"Come on, kid, please. What happened?" Nicky gently lifts her face and gazes worriedly into her brown orbs. The anguish that tries to stay hidden is easily noticed by her. "What did your dad do this time?! He hurt ya, didn't he?" She softly places Lorna's head against her legs, rubbing her cheek soothingly with her thumb.

Lorna gulps. She focuses her eyes down on the dirt-road trying not to give into her friend's pleading. "Tell me why you always have bruises on your body, Nicky. You always refuse to talk to me when I question you but you never leave me the fuck alone about my problems! Why is my stupid stuff more important than yours, huh?"

With a calm breath, the redhead nods and drops a tender kiss atop her head. "I will, kid. I promise. But first I need to know what happened to you. So please take the hat off and let me have a look," she firmly informs the other, lifting her head so that their foreheads gently brush together and their eyes stare directly into one another's.

The brunette sighs. She lifts her hands up to the brim of the hat, pulling hard on it but nothing happens. "See, I can't take it off."

Nicky decides to take a crack at it and grows concerned when it doesn't even remotely move. "Who did this? Who the fuck did this to you? Your dad? Is he still hurting you?"

"I don't know for sure. But he threw me in the tub last night and started shaving my head—it hurt so bad that I think I just passed out or somethin'…and when I woke up this morning, I noticed the hat on my head. Guess he glued it?"

Shaking her head furiously, Nicky wraps the brunette tightly in her arms. "That's fucked up, kid. Really fucked up. Your dad's evil. How can he be so cruel to ya? Fuck this. You and I are getting the hell away from here—I can't keep letting my best friend get hurt like this and I'm so sick of Marka."

Lorna looks at her as if she's crazy. "We're only kids, Nicky. Where the heck are we gonna go? It ain't like we got money or nothin'," she points out but settles comfortably into the older girl's warm hug. She rests her head against her shoulder and gazes softly up into her eyes. "Is she the reason you're always covered in bruises? Your-your own mom hurts you? Nicky, why would ya not tell me that? We've been best friends for years…how could ya not let me know?!"

Nuzzling her chin comfortingly against the Italian tween's head, Nicky gives a broken smile down at her. "It doesn't matter now, kid. We're both gonna get out of this abuse shit. We'll just hitchhike until we find a place to stay. Anything's better than living in an abusive house, yeah?" She caresses the palm of her hand softly against Lorna's cheek.

"Hitchhike? That sounds scary…what if someone kills us? What if some bad guy snatches us and cuts our heads off? I don't wanna do this, Nicky," Lorna tearfully pleads—the terrifying thoughts of what could go wrong plague her.

"Hey, _hey_ ," the twelve-year-old soothes, pulling her distressed friend closer in her arms. Her eyes peer tenderly down at Lorna; she rubs her back softly, "I won't let anything happen to us, kid. Don't be scared. You're my best friend—I would never ask ya do something that would hurt you…I promise. Please trust me on this, kid."

The sound of footsteps coming towards them immediately halts their conversation. Nicky's arms tighten around the tiny eleven-year-old as she looks up to see whom they belong to. Her heart beats a little bit faster when her eyes meet with an older gentleman's. One who seems a bit off with his shoulder length gray hair and two-front missing teeth.

"What are two young girls like you doing at a gas station? Shouldn't ya be in school still?" The man questions, his blue eyes piercing heavily down into theirs.

Nicky gulps—inwardly terrified what this man might do—but tries to keep her strong posture to keep Lorna calm. She looks up at him wondrously, "How'd ya lose both a your front teeth?"

He lets out a chuckle and looks at her with an unreadable expression. "Ya really wanna know, huh? Well, it's a long story but I'll tell ya on your way back to school—how's that sound?" The man doesn't wait for an answer, grabbing Nicky in one arm and Lorna in the other—he carries them both back to his van that's parked off the side of the road and throws them in the back of it before quickly getting in the front and driving off.

* * *

Without a window or light, the back of the van is merely pitched black inside. Something that completely terrifies Lorna. She feels around for Nicky and when she finds her, she instantly crawls over to bury herself into her body. Tears leak out of her eyes as she wraps her arms tightly around the redhead's abdomen. "I-I'm scared," she cries out.

Nicky pulls the younger child closer against her body, kissing the top of her head softly. She feels her own terrified tears fall along her cheeks but knows crying isn't going to help the situation. "Shh, ya gotta whisper. I know, kid. I am too. But we have each other, yeah? We're not alone, baby…just remember that. You have me. I'll protect ya," she whispers softly, nuzzling her head against Lorna's—trying anything she can to quiet her done some.

The brunette sniffles and moves up to her neck, resting her head against Nicky's heart and placing her arms snuggly around her neck. "Wha-what's he gonna do? Is-is he gonna kill us, Nicky?"

"I don't know, kid," the redhead honestly responds while gazing softly down at her. She sighs, brushing a hand soothingly through her dark hair. "Just try to calm down. Right now you're safe, okay? I've got ya, kid. It's gonna be okay. Shh, shh…I'll take care of us both, baby."


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Note: Thank you to Shirayuki55 and hollyhalebnichorelloregelolove for leaving such nice reviews; they are very appreciated. Also, a little background info to help readers understand this chapter a little more-the man who's abducted Lorna and Nicky brainwashes them into believing that they're sisters and forces them to call him "father". Just to clear that up in case anyone gets confused...Anyway, hope this chapter is okay. Sorry it's dark but it will lighten up soon-I promise.**

 **Warning: Kidnapping, child abuse/torture, graphic depictions of violence, strong language, etc. Read at your own risk.**

* * *

 _Chapter Three_

The van jolts to a stop. Nicky holds on tighter to Lorna—keeping her head held down to her chest. "Try not to cry, yeah? I know it's scary, kid—but I think it's safest if we try to stay quiet," she whispers soothingly against the younger girl's ear. The faint sound of a door opening and then quickly shutting causes a tense knot to form in her stomach. She feels the brunette's body convulse against her own and squeezes her arms tighter around her.

"I-I don't wanna be killed, Nicky," Lorna sobs out, clutching desperately onto her neck while hiding her face in the crook of it. All those horrifying stories she's heard on the news—she and Nicky might end up the same way, and the thought alone terrifies her tremendously.

Rubbing her back over and over, the redhead nods her head slowly. Tears run down her cheeks. "It's gonna be okay. We're gonna be okay, Lorna. Just-just think happy thoughts, yeah? Do what I do. I've seen enough of these kinds of things in movies…I can get us out of this mess—just calm down," she brushes her lips comfortingly over Lorna's head.

Shaking and rumbling of the vehicle causes alarm to both girls. They focus their eyes on where they sense it's coming from and are washed with fear when the middle-aged man hovers over them from the open trunk. His blue eyes stare intently down into their frightened ones. "Didn't no one teach ya not to talk to strangers?" He gives a taunting laugh before yanking them both roughly out of his van.

With the two young—terrified—girls tucked harshly under either arm, he carries them up to and into his house. He drags them down the stairs to the basement where he's spent the past several months creating a soundproof, concrete, box for whatever vulnerable children he could find and throws them on the ground. He grabs a rope from its place on the wall and begins by tying Lorna's arms behind her back—reigning in her weakness and fear.

Nicky cries at the pain his action causes to her best friend. She tries to crawl over to her but feels a blunt object hit roughly against the back of her head and falls unconscious.

A loud scream escapes the brunette, "Don-don't touch her!" Tears stream along her pale cheeks as she tries to make her way over to the unmoving redhead.

The man quickly chains Nicky against the back wall and then goes back over to the smaller child. He gruffly pulls her up from the floor and carries her over to a kennel-sized cage—sitting on the opposite side of the room—and throws her inside, locking the door so she's trapped. "It's a shame no one taught ya to stay away from strangers, huh? This'll teach you two delinquents not to skip school again…bet mommy and daddy will be so sad to hear their daughters are missing," he chuckles, reaching between the wires to trace a finger coolly against the tremoring child's neck.

Sobs wrack through Lorna's body. She tries to move away from his touch but realizes there's nowhere to move—the cage is too small for her body. "P-p-please let-let us go," her voice timidly pleads.

"And lose my chance at some fun? Fuck no," the man laughingly responds, slowly standing up and making his way towards the stairs. He looks back at her and smirks. "No use in screaming, little girl. Ain't no one will hear ya. Just stay put til' I come back later…the three of us are gonna be real close, I sense."

* * *

Nicky wakes up with a severe headache overpowering her. She squints her eyes trying to make sense of where she's at. Her wrists feel tight and prickly; when her eyes glance at them, she realizes the chain that digs deeply into her skin and yelps. It slowly comes back to her—everything that's happened in such a short amount of time. Her heart races when she doesn't see Lorna. She looks around, as far as her eyes can look, but doesn't see any sign of the tiny brunette.

"L-Lorna? Are ya here, kid?" She quietly calls out, trying not to be heard by the man—who she prays isn't in the room.

That warm, soothing, voice brings a wavering comfort over the frightened brunette. She nods her head and taps on the cage so that the other knows she's trapped. "He-he locked me in a cage…Nicky, are-are you okay? He hit your head real hard—are ya hurt?"

To hear that the younger girl's trapped in a cage instantly wipes Nicky's pulsing headache away and, in turn, washes her with strong worry. She doesn't care what pain she's in all she cares for is how Lorna is coping. "I'm fine, kid, don't worry. He fucking put you in a cage? What the fuck? This is like a fucking horror movie…God, I'm so sorry Lorn! Are ya hurt or anything, kid?"

"He-he's coming back down here, Nicky. He said we're gonna be real close…what's that mean? Please tell me what that means—is that code for kill?"

Gulping, Nicky can't find the words to give. She doesn't want to scare Lorna any more than she already is. "I—I don't know, baby. I don't know what he's gonna do but Lorna…look, it's not gonna be good. I don't wanna scare ya, kid, but this isn't a safe situation." She yanks her hands harshly around, trying desperately to break the chain off the wall. A sense of victory hits when she frees herself from the wall. She quickly walks over to the brunette and nearly tears up at how cramped she looks in the kennel.

She grabs the door and hurries to unlock it, pulling Lorna out and carrying her to the furthest corner of the room. "We have to keep quiet. Don't want him to come down here. I know it's real scary, but you need to try to stay calm—I won't let him hurt you," her voice whispers uneasily against the smaller girl's ear. She lays Lorna gently in her arms, terrified of what will happen to them.

"How-how long are we gonna be stuck here? I-I wanna go home, Nicky…I don't want him to kill us."

Rubbing her thumb delicately across her friend's forehead, Nicky pulls her closer and shrugs her shoulders. "Lorna…the chances are kinda low that we'll get outta here…I-I've seen enough horror films to know that it's very rare for anyone to make it alive outta a kidnapping. But, just—just remember we're here together, yeah? We have each other; that's all we need, kid."

Lorna opens her mouth to respond when the sound of a door creaking open startles them. She grips tighter onto the taller child, hiding her face in her chest as tears pool into a puddle.

"Shh, shh, shh," the redhead soothes, brushing a comforting hand through her brown curls. "I'm right here. I won't let him hurt you; I promise, baby."

"I don't want him to hurt you either," the younger girl tearfully whispers, laying her head beneath Nicky's chin and snaking her arms death-grippingly tight around her neck.

Footsteps slowly ascending down the stairs quiets them instantly. The two try to hide in each other's arms but when the man finally enters the room, his eyes shoot daggering glares towards the both of them. "How the hell did ya manage to undo the chains and let that little runt sister a yours out, huh?" He harshly throws out his questions, walking nearer.

Hovering over their tremoring bodies, he grabs hold of the smaller girl's legs and tries to yank her off of Nicky. "Ya better wise up and let go. You're only making things worse for the both of you, little shit," he spits in her face and pulls so hard on her that her body spins in the air and slams face first against the floor half-way across the room.

Nicky feels a sob escape her at the heartbreaking squeals that come out of her friend. She pushes herself up, walking over to her but before she can try to hold her, she falls backward to the concrete ground. Her legs lunge at the man—trying so mercilessly to kick him right in-between his leg.

He quickly yanks her away from the brunette and drags her to the back corner, rechaining her while also tying her legs together with a triple-knotted rope. "We can't have you trying to escape again," he gruffly states, letting his fingers brush coolly along her face. The sensation of teeth chomping down on his hand causes him to jump in surprise.

"Why you little shit!" The man growls, quickly running to the rickety desk in the middle of the room and grabbing a roll of tape from drawer. He walks back over to Nicky and cuts a long piece off the roll—placing it tightly over her mouth. "That oughta keep your mouth shut. Think you can outsmart me, do ya little girl? Well, ya try that shit again and see what happens to that runt sister a yours."

Brown eyes widen in fear. Nicky profusely shakes her head while tears stream along her cheeks. She looks over at the brunette—who's head lies motionless against the dirt-floor.

The man picks Lorna up and places her back inside the kennel—this time placing a rope around her neck and tying it to the top of the cage. He does the same with her hands in effort to stop her from being able to get out. Once he's shut and locked the door, he stands up and admires his work. "You two probably wish ya stayed in school, huh? Oh, well, ya made up your mind and this is your consequence…now ya can think about it for a good long time if skipping school was worth all this. Now, I gotta go make a phone call—let your families know that you're dead. If I come back down here and see either of you undone from your contraptions, I will decapitate both of you."

* * *

Years, months, weeks? Nicky's not sure the last time she saw the outside world. The last time she felt the sun on her face or heard the song of the birds. She knows it's had to have been at least a year or two…the way people dress is certainly not the same as she remembers. The overwhelming sights of nature mesmerize her eyes—she forgets what she's doing out here with how much pleasure she's experiencing from just standing and taking in everything.

"Nicky," that gentle voice instantly brings the redhead back from her tranquil daze.

She immediately turns to stare at Lorna—the only person who's kept her from losing her sanity all these years—and softly gazes into her frightened eyes. "Isn't it so peaceful out here, kid? I wish we could just live out here—the two of us. Get away from this evil house," her voice desperate as she flinches at the thought of having to return inside soon.

Lorna timidly nods but continues to give her a fearful glance. "Father is angry," she barely speaks louder than a whisper. The man who's kidnapped them and causes them the most torture tells them to refer to him as father, and the brunette can hardly say it without wanting to vomit. Compared to her real dad, he's the devil himself.

"Come here," the redhead tenderly commands, her eyes peering concerningly into her 'sister's' brown orbs. She immediately stops from hanging the clean clothes to envelop Lorna in a protective embrace. "He hurt ya? Show me your arms, baby…let me check them." Her heart nearly shatters when she feels the younger girl's body flinch at the touch.

"Lorna…please don't be scared of me—I-I'm not gonna hurt you. What did he tell you? What the fuck did he put in your head, kid?"

Her eyes gazing down at the ground, Lorna slightly shrugs her shoulders. All those years she longed to get out of the Morello household—this makes that seem like a dream-life. Sure, her dad abused and beat her but not nearly as bad as this man—this monster who's not only took control of she and Nicky's lives but also robbed them of their free will and thoughts.

Waving a hand gently in her face, the taller girl peers unnervingly into her eyes. "Ya with me, kid? Talk to me," Nicky softly pleads, brushing the tips of her fingers cautiously along Lorna's cheeks.

"He's real mad," she lowly replies, still refusing to stare up at the other. "I-I heard him sayin' something about, about c-cuttingyourheadoffandfeedingyourbodytothewolves," the words jumble together in her frantic cries of fear.

"Whoa, whoa…ya needa calm down and talk slower, sweetie—I didn't hear what ya said," the redhead warmly informs, brushing her hand tenderly through the other's hair. Her arms envelop tightly around her waist.

Lorna sniffles, snaking her arms tight around Nicky's neck. "He-he pl-plans to ki-kill you, Nicky…I _heard_ him!"

Caressing the back of her palm against the brunette's face, Nicky shakes her head and presses a tender kiss onto her forehead. "Shh, shh. He can't kill me, kid. I won't let him. In fact, I've had enough of his shit—I say we oughta kill him. He needs to die for all the pain and torture he's put you and I through, don't ya think?"

Slightly nodding, the other looks up at her with a fearful expression. "But we'll be sent to jail for murder…"

"Kid, he fucking kidnapped us and took away the past ten years of our lives—if anything they'll be grateful to us for saving them the trouble of having another useless monster fed by the people of this country. It's either we kill him, or he kills us. What's more important baby?"

Sobs overpower Lorna as she shrugs her shoulders. To have him dead would be a great relief but she knows she's not capable of killing and certainly doesn't want the other to do it. The police won't care for their explanation—they'll be forced to spend the rest of their lives in jail if they go forth with killing him and that's not something she can live with.

The slamming of the house door immediately stiffens both young women in their tracks. They hold on tighter to each other, bracing themselves for what the man might do. He slowly walks over towards them; his blue eyes dilated and raged as they glare darkly at his two captives. "What the fuck is taking the two of you so long?"

His eyes dart to Lorna with a bubbling irritation. "I told ya to come out here and get your sister—not fuckin' stand out here and fucking talk to her for an hour. How stupid are you?" He yanks her arm harshly, pulling her away from Nicky and slamming her to the ground.

Nicky grits her teeth in a deepening fury. Her brown orbs burn fiercely into his. "Lorna's not even remotely stupid. Fuckin' asshole. Why can't ya just let us fuckin' leave? You've done nothing but ruined our entire lives."

Those words only fuel his rage. He grabs them both by the arms and drags them back inside the house—throwing them on the floor once they're inside. He pulls out a gun from his jean's pocket, holding it up over their heads. "Ya wanna say that shit again?"

"Stop, _stop it! Please_!" Lorna sobs out, her legs buckling in on her as she lies on the floor with pleading eyes.

Touching the tip of the gun to her head, he peers intently down at her—a hidden evil within his own. "Ya want me to stop it? One pull a this trigger and you'll be outta here. It's as simple as that, little delicacy." His finger slides nearer the trigger while observing her frantic shrieks.

Tears pouring down her cheeks, Nicky hurriedly grabs Lorna and pulls her into her arms—slowly backing away from their captor. She tries to shield the tiny brunette from the brutality of what plays out next but feels something jagged come in contact with one of her hands and lets out an instinctive scream. "Jesus, fuck!" She cries, turning to look at her hand and gasps at the blood dripping out of it.

Lorna sobs harder at the sight of her hand; her arms wrap tighter around Nicky. "You-you needa get outta here, Nicky," she whispers, staring up at her with pained eyes.

"How the hell can we, kid? He's got a fuckin' gun—already shot one of us…ya think I'm letting you stay here without me? Fuck no," Nicky firmly points out but presses a comforting kiss atop the brunette's head. She leans their foreheads briefly together and looks lovingly into the other's brown orbs. "We need to try to get the gun from him and shoot him. Do ya wanna try to distract him? I don't want you touching that gun. If he's gonna die…I'm the one killin' him; cause God forbid we get sent to jail for this—I rather be the one who's done the deed, yeah?"

The brunette timidly nods and shakily forces herself into a standing position. She unsteadily walks closer to their abductor—who continues to hover in his spot with the gun tightly held in his hands—and tries to walk past him to stand behind but immediately feels his hands grab at her – pulling her to kneel on the ground in front of him.

"You two shits really think ya have the power to outsmart me, huh? Nice try. You can't defeat me no matter how bad ya wanna. You're both weak little lambs. Couldn't kill me if ya tried," he laughs, stepping his foot harshly on Lorna's hand—making her yelp in obvious pain.

Those words mercilessly taunt Lorna; the sensation is strong enough to force her to swing her leg forward and kick him in between the legs. She kicks hard enough that he can't get up for several minutes without a sharp pain overpowering his entire body and watches as Nicky quickly pounces on him—yanking the gun roughly from his hands.

Nicky points the gun at him while wrapping her arms fiercely around the shorter woman's shaking body. "Ya wanna bet on that, yeah? I'll press this trigger and watch you die without a care in the world—ya ain't nothin' but the devil's son," she screams out, her eyes welling with tears as she glares angrily down at the man—the man who's taken nearly a decade of her life away.

"I doubt you have the guts—you little wuss. You had plenty of chances to run away but you never did—either of you fuckin' dumbasses. Know why? Cause you're weak little puppies who need a master to tell them what to do," the man growls, a dark smirk sitting on his face.

That's enough to fuel her rage right over the tipping point; she pulls down on the trigger and slowly releases it. Her arms tighten around the frightened brunette. She kisses her softly on the head before hurrying towards the door with her. Opening it, she gently takes Lorna's hand and carefully pulls her out of the house—out of their torturous life they've suffered.

Lorna's intense shaking makes Nicky stop at the end of the sidewalk—near the curb of the road—and sits down with her for a minute to calm her. She brushes a soothing hand soothingly through her dark curls of hair; eyes gazing softly down into the other's. "Look at me, baby… _look_ at me," her voice softly whispers.

The brunette obediently does what's asked. Her brown orbs red and puffy with a river of tears. "He hurt you—he hurt you, Nicky."

" _Baby_ , I'm okay. It's over now; it's all over and we're both alive," her voice tenderly assures Lorna. She strokes the tips of her fingers softly along the Italian's teary face, wiping them dry. "No more torture, sweet girl—we're safe now."

"We have no where to go. Our families—they think we're dead, Ni-Ni-Nicky! What—what are we gonna do?"

Pulling the hysterical Lorna back into her arms, Nicky softly kisses her forehead before placing it onto her chest and rubbing a soothing hand up and down her head. "Calm down, Lorn. You don't need to be so frightened anymore—we're okay now," she softly confirms, caressing her delicately. "What we need to do before anything else, kid, is go down to the nearest police station and tell them everything. It's gonna be hard and painful but we need to do it, Lorn."

"Everything is gonna be okay, though. We'll get through this together, my sweet girl. Just remember that, yeah?"


	4. Chapter 4

**Warning: Contains mentions of past abuse, sexual abuse, torture, and graphic depictions of violence.**

 **Author's Note: Very sorry for the delay in updating. Had such a hard time with this chapter. But I hope it's turned out okay. Feel free to review and let me know your thoughts. Or not, that's fine too. Thanks.**

* * *

 _Chapter Four_

A fifteen-minute walk past the house the two young women have spent the last ten years being tortured in brings them to the local police station. The two slowly make their way up to the front desk; Nicky taps her hand anxiously against it to get the officer's attention—who's busy looking over some paperwork it seems. She tightens her arm around the shorter woman beside her, trying her best to soothe her.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" A very thick Russian accent questions. The woman behind the counter sets aside what she's been looking over to take a glance up at who's come into the station. When she realizes how battered the pair of them look, a deep worry slowly overpowers her. "What on Earth happened to you two? You might want to go to a hospital instead…you don't look too well!"

Nicky shakes her head furiously, her hand tapping anxiously against the counter. "What we need is for you to go arrest this man—he, he fucking kidnapped us and kept us locked in some torture chamber in his basement for years—he's probably still lying on the floor bleeding, hurry before he tries to leave," her voice all but begs as she stares widely across at the concerned female officer.

"Okay, hold on a minute—you need to calm down. Who is this that you're talking about? Can you give me an address?" The officer gently inquiries, getting out a pad of paper to jot the appropriate information down. Her blue orbs gaze across at the two young—terrified—woman with a slight concern seeping through them. Sure, they've had abduction cases come up here and there but nothing like what this girl has informed her about.

The sound of glass shattering and hitting the floor brings an immediate halt to the conversation. Several gunshots go off; both young women fall to the floor with fresh wounds of their own. The man, who they assumed to be lying in a pool of blood, hovers over them with a gun held tightly in his hand—the same gun that put a bullet in his shoulder—and a smirk spread across his face.

"Told ya ya couldn't kill me," he retorts, looking down at them with venom seeping through his cold orbs.

Quickly paging a team of officers, the Russian woman briskly makes her way from behind the counter and over to the guy. She forcefully yanks the gun out of his hand, placing it in her pocket, and tries to keep him detained until her coworkers show up to help. "What is your problem coming in a police station and gunning down two nice young ladies, huh?"

With scoff, he rolls his eyes and stares up at the officer with a dark gleam, "These two are far from nice—my disobedient daughters shoot me in the shoulder and leave me to bleed out? Ya call that fuckin' _nice_?"

Lorna can't find her voice; the fear his presence brings is an unnerving one. It's as if her body won't work anymore, the pain in her back only hyphens the sensation. Tears emanate from her brown orbs, but no sound accompanies.

The pain is easily ignored in Nicky. Her only focus is the tiny brunette beside her. She crawls closer to her, enveloping her arms excessively tight around her small frame. She lays Lorna's head on her chest and rests hers on top of the other's, silently allowing herself to cry. "It's okay…it's all okay, Lorn," her voice tearfully whispers, lips brushing softly against porcelain cheeks.

* * *

It all happens fast. The man who's taken so much of their life away is finally hauled off in handcuffs to prison and not long after, they're being ushered into a police car; the Russian woman in the driver's side, driving briskly down the road in lue of the nearest hospital.

She looks back at them, momentarily, and feels a rush of sympathy rise. They seem so young and broken, she internalizes. "That man is your father? You girls are sisters?"

Nicky curtly shakes her head, tightening her arms around the tremoring brunette. Her eyes darken at the thought; she balls her hands into fists. "Hell no—he's the man who kidnapped us and locked us in some damn torture contraption!"

With a sigh, the older woman faintly shutters at such a horrendous image. There are downsides to every job—this is the part she hates, having to find people who've encountered lows lower than lows. What they must have endured is something she can't even imagine. "Do you know his name or anything? Was he someone you two knew before this occurred?"

"He, he-he made us c-c-call him f-f-father," is Lorna's timid answer, her eyes closed in effort to keep herself from crying anymore.

Pulling Lorna's head closer against her chest, the redhead runs a hand tenderly through her brown hair and lets out a breath of air. "Get some sleep, sweetie. We're okay now; he's gone," her voice soothes gently into the shorter woman's ear, resting her chin on top of her head.

Her eyes wander back over to the front of the vehicle with peaking curiosity. "What's your name?"

"I go by Red," the Russian lady responds, staring back at her through the rearview mirror. "And you're right—you're both _safe_ and _okay_ now. That man is going to be in prison for a very long time."

* * *

Red sits in the waiting room the entire time after the two young women are brought back to separate wings of the emergency room. Usually, after bringing kidnap victims to the hospital, she leaves but something about these two lures her to stay. Something in her heart makes her yearn to help them beyond her job as a police officer. Maybe it's the strong motherly instincts that sit within her or maybe not; but she knows there's no way she's leaving until she sees the pair of them again and knows for a fact that they're all right.

She settles her eyes in front of a book, trying to distract herself from the wait, when she hears someone sitting down nearby and a loud sob escaping said person. Instantly, the book is placed back where found and she turns to see who's joined her. The sight in front of her nearly rips her heart out. "What's the matter? Did a doctor look you over, honey?"

Shaking her head, Lorna can't stop the cries from plaguing through her. She can't come to terms with the fact that the one person she knows she can't live without may not survive much longer. The thought alone has her stomach knot up with a strong sensation of nausea. "Nick-Nicky—she, she—he-he shot her in-in the back and-and the-the bullet…the bullet, it-it-it—"

"Shh, shh, come here," the Russian softly hushes, and very cautiously wraps the distraught young girl in a soothing embrace. "Take a deep breath; it's okay. What happened to your friend?"

The brunette sniffles quite loudly. Tears stream heavily down her porcelain cheeks. "She-she might die—the b-b-bullet hurt, it hurt her kid-kidneys real bad and-and she needs a new one," her voice cries out, she instinctively hides her face in the older woman's shoulder and lets the cries continue to escape.

"Oh, sweetheart, I'm so sorry. Is there anyone I can call for the two of you? Your parents or anyone?" Red softly questions, rubbing a hand comfortingly up and down the distraught brunette's back. Her heart aches deeply within her chest.

Lorna only shrugs her shoulders, clinging almost desperately onto the older woman. "I don't remember them…I just, all I have is Nicky and I-I _can't_ lose her!"

The older woman sighs sadly to hear that. It makes her wonder just what that man did to them for so long. She secures her hold on the small brunette, rocking her soothingly in her arms while brushing a hand comfortingly through her hair. "It'll be okay. I'll stay here with the two of you and make sure you both get the best help possible, how's that sound?"

* * *

Hours pass by before Lorna finds herself timidly entering into her best friend's room. She feels her legs shaking as she walks—the realization of possibly watching her pass on shakes her to the core. Tears leak slowly out down her cheeks the closer she gets to her. The pit of her stomach feels thick and heavy when her eyes reach Nicky's. "I-I'm, I'm sorry," she sobs out, a bit wary of coming any closer from how pale and weak her body looks.

Nicky shakes her head and pats her chest, holding out her arms desperately for the younger girl. "Come lay with me, Lorn. You have nothing to be sorry about, kid. Come here," she lovingly commands; her big soft eyes gazing longingly up at her.

The brunette timidly does what's asked of her. She nervously settles herself into the taller woman's strong awaiting arms. Hers wrap very cautiously around Nicky's neck where she buries her face. "I-I-I can't lose ya, Ni-Nicky…you can-can't die!" She sobs fiercely, her tears soaking the other's skin in puddles of salty water.

"Hey, _hey_ ," the redhead softly hushes, wrapping her arms tight around her waist. Her lips press soothingly against Lorna's forehead. "None a that talk. I'm not fucking dying, hell no. You need me, baby; like hell I'll let that piece of shit take me away from you! Calm down, yeah? Everything's gonna work out."

For several silent moments, Nicky only lays there—running her hand slowly up and down her friend's back. She exhales a deep breath and fixes her eyes back down into the brunette's. "What the doctor say about you? Did the asshole hurt ya anywhere? Tell me the truth, kid; I gotta know if anything's wrong."

"Ain't nothin' wrong with me. You're the one he-he hurt, Nicky. And-and I told the doctor to see if I'm able to give you my kidney. I don't want you to have to wait because that mi-might make you worse," Lorna shakily informs her, clinging tightly to her neck.

Eyes wide with compassion, Nicky's heart nearly bursts out of her chest. She cups Lorna's face lovingly in her hands and rests her forehead against hers, " _Baby_ , no way…no way will I let ya do something risky like that. You're the sweetest thing ever for even thinking of doing that but I cannot let you. I don't want you living with one kidney, hell no. I'm sure they'll find someone soon, kid. Don't worry." She pecks a tender kiss onto her cheek, smiling sadly at her.

The sound of the door creaking open interrupts their conversation and has their eyes glance over to see who it is. Dressed in a white-coat and holding a clipboard in her hand, the doctor quickly enters the room and walks over to the side of the bed to greet both women with a kind smile on her face. "I'm sorry we have to meet this way—but there is some good news to be shared," her voice deep and raspy; her eyes cast down to the paperwork in her hands. She looks back up and over to Lorna with a smile, "The results just came back, and you are a candidate for donating your kidney to Miss Nichols, if you so desire."

"Yes, yes, a million times yes," the brunette blurts out before Nicky has a chance to deny it. "I'll give it to her right now, whatever is possible."

Nicky instantly shakes her head, tightening her arms around her friend's waist while peering up at the doctor. "First, just call me Nicky and second, I refuse for anyone to cut into Lorna. I don't want anyone touching her. You're gonna have to find another match because there's no way Lorna is giving me a thing. I mean it," she darkly informs, her face stern with refusal.

Hearing this makes Lorna's heart race. She stares across the room at the doctor with pleading eyes, "It's my kidney and I want Nicky to have it. She _needs_ it! Please let me donate it to her…I-I can't watch her die!" Her face turns back to stare up at the woman who holds her; she gazes fiercely into her eyes, angry that she won't let her help. "Nicky, please-please let me help you…why—why are ya refusing my kidney? Do you…do you think it's bad?"

"No, no; that's not it at all, kid. There's _absolutely nothing_ about you or in you that's bad. I just—I don't want anyone cutting into you, baby; they'll hurt you and I can't willingly allow that. You've already been hurt enough; you don't need this," Nicky firmly mutters, pulling her closer.

Shaking her head in outrage, Lorna wraps her arms snug around her neck. She gazes sternly into her brown orbs, "I am giving you my kidney whether you agree or not. You need it, Nicky. I-I don't care what has to happen to me…I just I want _you_ to be okay. The pain will be worth it as long as I don't lose you. You-you're all I have…please don't fight me on this."

"I won't be okay with these people putting a fucking knife—or whatever the fuck sharp objects they use—inside of your damn abdomen! They're going to cut your precious skin, Lorna, and give you even more painful scars. I don't want that for you. You have enough scars, baby, you don't need any willingly made."

The doctor listens to the conversation with a wavering concern. She's never heard such an odd conversation like this one before. Her eyebrows arch as she gives them an uneasy stare, "I hate to interrupt, but your conversation is starting to sound very worrying. I don't mean to pry into personal matters or anything, but if there's abuse the two of you are dealing with I am required by law to inform the police. From the wording you're using, that's the conclusion I'm coming up with. Are you guys living in an abusive house? Be honest about it. It's not safe to keep living like that."

"Somethin' like that," the redhead grumbles harshly, her arms wrapped protectively around Lorna's petite waist. Her eyes stare apprehensively up into the other woman's concerned ones. "The police already know and have the man sittin' in a prison cell. Look, we were held captive for the past decade and tortured on a daily fucking basis so forgive me if I don't want my best friend being put through some painful medical procedure just for my behalf. She's small and delicate; I don't want her going through something like this. I should have the final say in who gives me my kidney, yeah?"

To hear that intensifies the doctor's concern. In all of her four years of being a doctor, she's never had to deal with an abuse patient and now, not only does she have one but two—two young women who have been through the most horrific abuse she's ever heard of. "I'm so sorry to hear that…I can only assume it must be so hard dealing with what's been done, and the thought of having surgery is even scarier after going through what you've gone through. But this is different, Nicky, this _isn't_ intentional. This is to _help_ both of you. You'll both be asleep before we even begin the operation; you won't feel a thing until you wake up, I promise you that. We would never want to hurt either of you on purpose; this is just something that needs to be done to save your life."

Lorna nods in agreeance with the doctor and stares back up at the redhead. She nuzzles her softly on the neck, snaking her arms tight around it. "It's gonna be okay, Nicky. I'm doing this for you; you are my whole life, and this is what needs to be done. We'll both get through this…together, okay? You've done so much for me and keeping me safe—can't ya just let me do this one thing for you, huh? Lemme help you for once," her voice softly trickles against Nicky's skin.

Pulling her closer, Nicky groans and rolls her eyes. Her grip only tightens around her waist as a loud sigh escapes her. "I guess…but it doesn't make me any less against this. I really don't want you putting yourself through something painful like this, Lorna, just for me. You're in a very, very fragile state right now…ya sure this is a good idea?"

"We're _both_ in fragile states, Nicky. But I couldn't live with myself if I _didn't_ do this. You are all I have. I can't let you go."

Nicky sighs, staring sadly down into her eyes. She caresses a hand tenderly through her wavy dark hair. "I know, baby, I know. I just—I hate that you have to be forced in this situation. You're the sweetest, Lorna, ya know that?"

Kissing her cheek soothingly, Lorna settles back down on her chest and drapes her arms around her neck. "We'll be okay, hon."

The doctor watches them silently, astonished with how they have the ability to calm each other so easily. Once their eyes avert back to her, she decides to speak again. "Since it seems you're both willing to go ahead with the transplant, I will go ahead and set it up for tomorrow morning. And, maybe you guys might want to look into meeting with a therapist. I know, again, it's not my business. But from what I've heard, I think talking with someone will highly benefit the both of you."

The redhead nods her head knowingly. "We'll think about it…thanks for everything, especially caring enough to ask about the abuse. You're the first person to do that, so yeah, we're real grateful. What's your name?"

"Doctor Vause," the black-haired woman responds, a sympathetic smile on her face as she heads nearer the door. Before exiting, she turns to give them one last glance. "You girls get some rest, yeah? I'll come check on you in the morning."

* * *

Red comes back early the next day to visit the two young women. All last night she lay awake in her bed thinking about them. The thought of what they've been put through tears at her constantly. She knows she's got to do something more for them. And, if neither one of them remembers their family, she recognizes someone will have to be there for them; they can't go through this on their own. The aching feeling in her chest tells her that it's her calling to be here for these girls, she's always had the urge to nurture—and without the ability to bare children, she's never gotten the chance to use that instinct. This is her chance to take care of others, she sees.

Upon entering the room, Red's eyes widen to see that both of them are lying in separate hospital beds with IV-lines running in one of their hands. "What's going on in here?"

Doctor Vause—who's writing down vitals on charts—turns to glance over at the unfamiliar woman with a quirked eyebrow. "Do you know these two, ma'am?"

Nicky can't help but smile to see that the Russian woman's actually come back. She nods her head, staring back at her doctor with a warm expression seeping through her big orbs. "She's the one who kinda saved us. She brought us here yesterday, don't worry. Her name's Red, she works at the police station," she says, before gazing back over at the short-haired Russian.

"Oh, well, it's nice to meet you, Red," the black-haired doctor kindly states, softening her features with a gentle smile. "Didn't mean to be harsh, but after hearing what these two sweet girls have endured I want to make sure no one strange comes in here and makes them uncomfortable."

Nodding her head, Red smiles in return. "Of course; from what they've shared with me, it sounds like they've been through a lot of horrendous things. It's not a problem at all that you might be a tad protective—in fact, that makes me happy to hear. Now, could you tell me what's going on? When I was talking with Lorna yesterday, she said she was fine…have things changed?"

The redhead feels a slight warmth rush through her body. This woman's words are somehow reassuring to her. It's as if she actually cares for their wellbeing's—something Nicky's never had such pleasure of experiencing. "Lorna's donating one of her kidneys to me—she's being an angel, that's what's going on. An absolute angel is what she is," her voice trails off at the end as her eyes gaze over at the other bed where Lorna lies anxiously.

"Wow," the older woman mutters to herself; she slightly shakes her head. Even with all that these two young things have endured, they seem to be pushing on mercifully. She walks further in the room and pulls a chair up to place in the middle of them where she perches herself. "What a selfless thing to do. You two will have an even closer relation after this; what strong sisters you two are."

Nicky chuckles softly, her eyes peering over at Lorna. She shakes her head, "We're not sisters, Red. We're really close best friends, that's for damn sure, but we both grew up in our own fucked up families. Tried to escape it in middle school and ended up in an even worse fucking situation. Life's full of lemons, ain't it?"

Mouth slightly gaping, Red's heart shatters inside of her. She's in shock to hear that not only had they been tortured by a stranger but also the people who are supposed to raise them. It builds a rage inside her. People who don't want kids are easily popping them out but someone like herself—who's dreamt of nothing but holding a baby in her arms—is less barren than a cave in the desert.

"Do you remember your family? I asked Lorna if there was anyone I could call for you girls yesterday, but she said she can't remember."

"The monster brainwashed Lorna pretty damn good, huh? She's so sweet and pure, of course he had no trouble making her believe some real fucked up shit. But he couldn't do that to me—and he sure tried but I'm too smart for that shit. Not to say Lorna isn't…she's damn smart; she's just, she's too sweet. But anyway, I sure do remember my fucked up mother. Not to say I have her number or anything. I can't stand her. Nor do I know the number to Lorna's house. So, looks like we just got each other. That's not a problem, though, I'm fine with just my Lorna. We can get through anything together."

Red's heart aches even more. She can't stop herself from grabbing a hold of one of their hands each. Her thumbs stroke delicately over their knuckles as her eyes gaze softly down into Nicky's, "I'm sure you can manage just the two of you…but you shouldn't have to. You girls need someone to help you through everything. You've been through a lot of things, it seems. Someone needs to take care of you both."

"Yeah? And who the hell's gonna do that? We don't know anyone but each other."

The Russian woman gives her a kind smile, stroking her hand soothingly. "I'll help the two of you. You girls seem so sweet and there's something about you both that's calling me. I have a big house, lots of bedrooms; when you girls are released here I want you to come stay with me. I'll take care of the two you. I mean it."

* * *

Hours after the transplant, Lorna awakens in a deep panic. She thrashes about on the gurney trying to free herself from what she thinks to be the man who's kidnapped them. Her cries are loud enough to have her doctor come rushing to her side. The touches only hyphen her fear; she lets out several screams and tries to break herself free from the wires that surround her body.

Doctor Vause very delicately holds her down so that she doesn't hurt herself, peering empathetically down at her. She knows anesthesia can have some bad effects on people, but this, this is something altogether different. "Lorna, Lorna, wake up. You're okay, you just had surgery. No one is here to hurt you. Open your eyes, sweetie. You're okay, I promise. Come on. I promise everything's okay. Your friend is out of surgery, too, and recovering wonderfully thanks to you. You saved her life, Lorna."

The gentle voice slowly lures the young girl out of her restless slumber. Her eyes pop wide open and she stares blankly up at the black-haired doctor.

"Good morning, little one," the older woman softly murmurs as she checks her vitals, jotting them down on the chart that she carries. A friendly smile sits on her face while she very carefully looks the small brunette over. "Everything is looking really good. How are you feeling? Are you in any pain, Lorna?"

Lorna tiredly shakes her head. Her eyes continue to gaze up into the other's. "Nicky," is all she responds with.

"She's doing well, don't you worry. But you can't see each other yet; you both need to rest and take it very easy on yourselves. Are you sure nothing's bothering you? I don't want you in any unnecessary pain. If anything hurts—no matter how small—you tell me immediately and I'll get you all fixed up. We in agreement?"

The brunette shrugs but sighs. "Is-is she by herself? I don't want her to be alone."

Shaking her head, Doctor Vause only smiles more. The love these two share makes her heart swell. She's never seen anything as strong as the bond these young women have. "Nicky is perfectly fine and being looked after by Red. In fact, she was wide awake when I was checking her vitals and demanded I come over and keep watch over you. So, here I am. You two are extremely close, yeah?"

"She's all I have. I'd die for her."

"No dying talk, Lorna. You're both alive and well. And yes, you will always have each other but you also have Red to take care of the both of you. You girls can also add myself to that list. I know it's not always smart to befriend my patients, but you and Nicky are too sweet to not want to help. That being said, I want you both to address me as Alex from now on, ya hear?"

Lorna slowly nods and pulls the blanket further up her body, trying to stop the shivers. A wet, sticky substance touches her hand and she immediately screams when she sees that it's blood.

The black-haired woman instinctively rushes to her side to investigate the culprit. Her hand gently pulls back the cover to check the incisions and sighs when the largest one seems to have been gushed open—most likely from all the thrashing about she's done. "It's okay, Lorna. You're not bleeding to death; take a breath. You must have poked it on the railing of the bed when you woke up. I'll just have to bring you back to the OR, so we can stitch ya back up. It's no big deal, sweetie; calm down. You're 100% okay. I mean it, Lorna."


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's Note: I'm very sorry for taking such a long time to update this. I've just been so focused on my other story that I seem to have neglected this one. I'm sorry. I'll be amazed if anyone even cares for this one anymore. But anyway, thanks to** **vausesandspanishharlem, Shirayuki55, and unnamed Guest for taking the time to read and review this. Hope this chapter is okay.**

* * *

 _Chapter Five_

Red sits at Nicky's bedside, holding one of her hands tight in her own as she looks her over with overwhelming compassion. Her fingertips brush softly against the young girl's knuckles. A heaviness sits in her heart. These two girls have really put into perspective just how precious life is. They've made her realize that one's life can be forever changed without any preparations and that seals her decision of bringing them home with her once they're recovered enough.

Running a hand maternally through the young woman's bushel of red curls, the Russian officer looks intently at her face. An innocence she easily notes; it breaks her heart tremendously to know what horrific pain's been caused to her. It eats at her thinking about how both she and her friend were held captive for ten years. And not once did either of their families file a missing report? Blood boils at that.

The sound of stirring accompanied by heavy-breathing immediately brings Red out of her thoughts and attention focused back on the redhead. She bends down to stroke a hand gently across her forehead. "You're okay, Nicky," her thick accent whispers soothingly into the girl's ear. She watches closely as the other's eyes slowly flutter open. A pang fills her chest at the shear horror that sits in those big brown orbs.

"Where, where the hell is Lorna? What did these monsters do to her?" The redhead fearfully yells out, instinctively pulling away from the older woman's touch.

Such questions tear Red's body with a strong heap of concern. She quite cautiously gather's the frantic woman's head in her hands and peers compassionately into her dark orbs. Fingertips brush delicately along the frail skin. "She's okay, I promise. Both of you are safe and okay now. There's no monsters here, Nicky. The devil of a man who had you locked up in his basement is spending the rest of his life behind bars. You don't need to worry anymore, sweet child; I'll take care of the both of you," she soothes into the young girl's ear, gazing warmly into her eyes.

Big brown eyes look skeptically up into lightly colored ones. "Don't make promises ya can't keep," is her muttered response, pulling the blanket further over her body. The past several years has made her realize that the only person she can truly trust is herself (and Lorna).

Staring down at her with an overpowering compassion seeping through her light eyes, the older woman feels a melancholic sensation tear amongst her insides. She cautiously reaches down to lightly stroke her hand against the redhead's forehead. "Who said I can't keep my promise? As soon as you two girls are released, I'm bringing you to my house so you can be cared for properly."

"Why though? You hardly even know us—why are ya so insistent?"

"I want to help the both of you. You already told me you have nowhere to go so why shouldn't I offer a place for you to stay, huh?" Red inquiries, folding her hands over her hips while giving a stern stare down towards the other.

Hearing her respond in that way easily has Nicky questioning the older woman. How can she believe her to really want to help them? Her words made it seem the only reason for her offering is because she pities their situation. Eyebrows arch skeptically, her dark eyes pierce heavily up into blue ones. "So, you're doing this outta pity, yeah? Need something to make ya feel better about yourself? _No thanks_ , Lorna and I can manage. Ain't no one gave two shits enough to search for us in _ten fucking years_ so why should we let some stranger takes us in? _Why_ should we trust you?"

Scooting her chair nearer the girl's bedside, Red reaches her hands down to cup maternally around her face. "I know it's not easy to trust anyone new right now but I really do want to help you and Lorna. I wouldn't have offered for you two to come home with me if I didn't truly mean it. In fact, you two are the first people who I've ever felt the desire to offer my extended help to like this. I'm not doing this out of pity, Nicky. I'm doing this because there's something about you girls that's pulling me to do this. You're both such sweet people and you need someone to get you through this. I want to be that person," her voice softly assures, fingertips delicately stroking along her forehead.

* * *

The sound of her door's opening instantly pries Nicky's eyes open. Her heart swells when she sees that it's her petite best friend's slowly walking in with her IV-pole assisting her. She quickly maneuvers into a sitting position, watching the brunette intently. "You supposed to be up outta bed so soon, Lorna? Doesn't it hurt?" A warm smile forms on her face as she holds out her arms for the younger girl.

Carefully making her way over, the brunette only shrugs. It doesn't matter to her what she's supposed to be doing right now—all she can think about is having Nicky's presence surrounding her. Once she's standing beside her friend's bed—with the support of her IV-pole—she very slowly lowers herself to sit on the bed next to her.

"It don't hurt no more than being without you," she murmurs, cautiously nuzzling up to Nicky's warmth. Her arms wrap gently around the taller woman's neck, needing the physical contact. Albeit it being only mere hours that the pair have been separated, that doesn't make it any less difficult for Lorna to endure. For ten years, aside from their captor, they were all each other's ever had. "I missed ya, Nicky. How are ya feeling?"

The sensation of Lorna's arms around her brings a fluttery tingle over her. Nicky instinctively wraps her arms protectively around the shorter woman's waist, dropping a tender kiss atop her head. "You're so sweet," she soothes against her ear while using her free hand to pull the blanket up around them. "I know, baby, I missed ya too. And I feel so much better now that I have you with me. I can't believe ya fucking let yourself get cut into just for me…you're too precious, Lorna."

Laying her head delicately on the taller woman's shoulder, Lorna brushes the tips of her fingers gingerly across her pale flesh. "Ya think I'd just sit back and let ya die? Nicky, you're the most important person to me…I'd give my life for ya," she softly confirms, snuggling deeper into her body. Her eyes momentarily shut as she relishes in the closeness she's sharing with the one person she loves so much—the one person who's tried her hardest to keep her safe these last several years. She knows that Nicky's the only reason she's alive today and for that she certainly would give her life for the woman.

"Sweetest thing ya are kid," Nicky murmurs, letting her hands comb lightly through the smaller girl's brown waves. A kiss she soothingly drops onto her forehead. "So, uh, that officer—Red—wants us to stay with her. What do ya think about that?"

Peaking her orbs out, the brunette gazes softly up at her best friend. She smiles lightly while wrapping her arms snuggly around her neck. "I think that's real nice a her. She's been so nice to us, don't ya think?"

"She sure has. But we don't know her…is it really a smart idea to go live with her?"

Brushing the tips of her fingers delicately along her cheek, Lorna nods. She easily senses the apprehension her friend's feeling at the thought of moving in with a woman who's a stranger to them—she can't blame her for that, but also knows they have no where else to go. "She's a police officer, Nicky, I don't think she'll do anything to us. She seems like a real good person. I think it's best we take her offer—we ain't got no where to go anyway," her voice softly points out.

With a sigh, Nicky rests her chin lovingly atop the other's head and gives her a tender squeeze. "I know, kid—I just I don't want us to end up in anymore hellish situations. That's the last thing either of us need."

"I don't think living with Red will be anything bad…let's just give her a chance, hon. If things get strange, we can always leave."

Stroking the palm of her hand up against the brunette's cheek, Nicky slightly nods her head with a small smile. "You're right, my doll. We'll give her a chance. Hopefully she truly is a good person," she says warmly against the Italian's ear.

Their conversation is abruptly interrupted by the sound of the door creaking open. Both pairs of eyes rapidly avert focus towards the sound—catching glimpse of a very out-of-breath Doctor Vause. She folds her hands over her hips, giving a piercing stare towards the two young women. "Lorna, what are ya doing in here? I just went to check on you in your room and about had a heart attack to see it vacant. You're supposed to be resting in your own bed. We already had one mishap with your incisions, don't need another do we?"

"What mishap are ya talking about? What happened with Lorna?" Nicky quickly throws out her own questions before Lorna can even open her mouth to respond.

Lorna throws an irritated glare towards the black-haired doctor. She shakes her head. "Nothing, Nicky. It's all good." The last thing she wants is for Nicky to stress over something she doesn't need to, especially when she's recovering from just having a somewhat major operation.

Shaking her head and wrapping her arms even tighter around the shorter woman, Nicky only continues to give a heated glance up to their doctor. "What happened? I need to know."

"It's nothing serious but after she woke up, her incisions opened back up and we had to rush her back to the OR to re-suture them. She was a little frightened when she woke up and musta hit her abdomen on the railing of the bed—that probably caused the stitches to break," the doctor carefully informs her, giving an apologetic glance towards the brunette.

Cupping the brunette's head tenderly in hands, the redhead gazes compassionately into her brown orbs. Her lips stroke affectionately over Lorna's porcelain cheek. "I'm sorry ya had to deal with that, baby. But I'm glad you're all fixed up now. Guess Doctor Vause ain't so bad, huh?"

Silently observing the two, the black-haired woman exhales a small breath of air. It's quite evident that the real healing will only happen if the pair is together. "I guess I'll have to move your stuff down here, yeah Lorna? You're just gonna keep sneaking your way here anyway. At least it'll be easier for me to check on the both of ya," she notes, a kind smile spreading on her face.

"Thanks," Lorna musters up a smile of her own, nestling herself closer to the redhead's body. She tucks herself into the crook of her neck and gazes quizzically up towards the oldest woman. "How long ya think we'll be in here?"

"I'd like to keep you both here for a good week to make sure neither of ya suffer any complications. I doubt ya will but I rather play it safe," doctor Vause responds, glancing over the charts in her hands. "I also highly recommend meeting with one of the therapists here—in fact, I know of the perfect one. I can ask her to stop by while the two of ya are still in here if you'd like."

The thought of meeting with a therapist right now is exhausting in and of itself. Nicky lets out an irritated breath at the mention. The last thing either of them need at this point in time is to talk to some stranger about the horrific abuse they've endured. That, she knows, will only continue to bring forth the painful memories—something neither of them is ready to work through. "I, uh, don't think now's the best time for either of us to be talking to a therapist," she mutters, running her hands therapeutically through her friend's dark brown hair.

Not too surprised at the response, their doctor gives a slight nod. "I understand it's not something either of ya want to do, who does? But I really think it'll be beneficial for you girls. At least let me see if she'll be willing to come meet you, yeah? Just to talk and get to know the two of ya, nothing personal."

"Who's this therapist you're talking about? Do ya know her real well or something?"

Nodding her head once again, the taller woman kindly smiles at the two. "Her name is Gloria Mendoza—she's a very generous person. I think she'd be very helpful for the two of ya. I talked to her myself after losing my mother and she really was such a good support," is her honest answer. The one therapist she recommends to any patient of hers who may need more than physical help.

With a sigh and roll of her eyes, Nicky slowly nods her head. "Fine, I guess it wouldn't hurt to meet her. But that's all it is—we're not talking about any personal shit. Make that clear to her."

"I will let her know that don't worry. I'm pleased you're both willing to give it a try. I'll see if she can stop by within the next couple a days and let ya know when she's coming. You girls rest up and don't overdo anything, I mean it."

* * *

That Friday morning, carrying a bag full of fresh homemade food, Red walks her way down the hall towards the room she's been spending the majority of her free time in recently. A smile forms on her face as she enters inside to see both Nicky and Lorna sitting up in their separate beds—eyes glued to the screen of the television that hangs up on the wall.

She sets the bag of food onto one of the trays and sits down in a chair right in-between the two girls. "How are you two today? Seems like you're managing well, that's great. Either of you been up walking yet?" Her accent thickly noticeable through her questions.

Taking her attention off the TV, Nicky turns to stare at the Russian. She can't stop the smile that takes up her face at seeing her for the fourth day in a row. Albeit her apprehension, she's secretly thrilled that the woman cares enough to keep visiting them and doing what she can to take care of she and her friend. "We're doing okay. Lorna's been a much better patient than I have that's for sure—she's always up walking even when she shouldn't be. Ya off or something today? You usually don't come until the afternoon," she wonders, clearly observant of the times of the older woman's visits.

"I have to work late today so I figured I come spend the morning with you two…and I brought you some real food—I'm sure you're both tired of that hospital shit they give you, huh?" Red inquiries with a light chuckle.

Eyes slowly moving away from the lit-up screen on the wall, Lorna smiles kindly over at the Russian matron. "They got good waffles but it's pretty bland here. Thanks, Red, it was real nice a ya to do that," she gratefully responds, looking her over with sparkling brown orbs. This woman, she sense, is the best thing for both she and Nicky. She seems more like a mother to them than either one of theirs.

Nicky shakes her head with a playful laugh at the brunette's claims. "Ya always did like the freezer-burned waffles your mom made so it's no surprise ya like the shit ones they make here," she yells over to her before staring over at Red with a thankful smile. "Yeah, it is so thoughtful of ya to bring us good food. I guess you really do wanna help us, yeah?"

Grabbing one of each of their hands, Red nods sternly. She stares down at her with firm eyes. It breaks her heart that either one of them would question her integrity. Yet, she understands their reasons—being held captive for a decade would take a negative toll on anyone. "Yes, sweetheart, I really do want to help you girls. You're both such sweet people; I couldn't stand to see you suffer alone. Now, how about I fix you each a plate of food? You girls hungry?"

"What'd ya bring?" The redhead curiously wonders, eyeing the brown bag that sits on the tray in the corner of the room.

Red gently releases their hands before walking to fix them their meals. A smirk forms. She looks over at the young redhead, "You'll just have to wait and see. Believe me, you guys will like it. It's old-time Russian recipe that's been passed down for generations."

"You cooked it? Geez, Red, you're a police officer and a Russian chef? Damn, badass much?" Nicky chuckles, leaning her head back against the pillow while watching the woman closely as she prepares their plates.

"I'm a woman who likes to eat her own cooking, that's all. I don't own a restaurant or anything crazy, child. Course' I wish I did—make more money doing that than I do as an officer. But that's beyond the point," she rambles while very cautiously bringing two very full dishes over to the younger women. She places one in front of Nicky and the other in front of Lorna. It makes her heart swell to bring a smile to both of them, especially after all that they've endured. A reason she deems perfect for taking them in once they're released.

* * *

Later in the evening, after falling asleep from eating such a large meal, Nicky's awoken to the sound of muffled screams. Alarmed, her body jolts up in terror. Eyes glance throughout the room, landing on the brunette who lays in the bed near the window. The sight of her immediately shatters her heart. Cautiously, she pushes herself up out of her own bed—using the IV-pole as a means of support—and walks over to the other. She perches herself right beside Lorna's head, gently lifting it and laying it on her chest. Her hands brush soothingly through her dark hair in an effort to gently calm away whatever's distressing her.

The sensation of the Italian's body fiercely trembling and thrashing about in her arms has a few tears fall from Nicky's eyes. She tightens her hold on her, stroking her lips lovingly against her head. "Wake up, baby, you're okay. It's okay, it's just a nightmare," her voice warmly whispers into her friend's ear. Fingers touch lightly along her face.

Brown eyes rapidly pop out of Lorna's sockets, looking frantically around the room. They involuntary blink for several seconds before registering their surroundings. Instinctively, she hides her face in the taller woman's chest and snakes her arms desperately tight around her neck. "I-I don't wanna be here any-anymore, Nicky. Pl-please let's call the police—it's-it's too much," she mumbles fearfully, still not entirely sure of where they're currently at.

Dropping another tender kiss atop her head, Nicky pulls her closer and brushes her hands over and over through her hair. "It's okay, baby. We're safe here. We're not anywhere near that monster, I promise. He's in prison. You just had a terrifying nightmare is all, Lorna doll."

"But-but I saw him…I saw him—he, he was trying to kill ya, Nicky! Please we have to get outta here. I don't want him to hurt you," she cries out, lifting her head momentarily to stare bewilderedly up into the redhead's compassion-filled eyes.

" _Baby_ , I know you saw that. It wasn't real though; you were sleeping, that means whatever ya saw was only a nightmare. We're both safe and okay now. We're in a very safe place, honestly. He can't get us anymore. They have him locked up in a prison far away from here. You don't have to worry anymore, my sweet doll," Nicky soothes, trying her hardest to bring the younger girl any amount of comfort she can. Her hands cup lovingly around her terrified face; she takes a good look over it and sighs sadly. It brings pain over her to see how horrified her best friend is over the nightmare, to actually believe it's real. That, she dreadfully realizes, only confirms their doctor's suggestion of needing to meet with a therapist.

She very delicately strokes her lips over Lorna's, a gesture she hopes somehow brings her out of this dream-like state. When she sees that it doesn't, she sighs and lays her head back down onto her chest. Her hands lovingly stroke through the brown waves of hair. "Shh, shh. Close your eyes and relax. You're safe in my arms, no more nightmares now. Try to focus on my voice and heart-beat; you'll be okay, baby. I love you so much and I promise we're gonna get past this together. As long as we have each other, we can survive anything."


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Note: Thank you,** **vausesandspanishharlem, Unnamed Guest, and Shirayuki55.** **I'm so sorry it's taken me four months to finally update this...I've been so into writing Valley of Sorrow that no inspiration came to me for this one...well, until tonight. I'll be shocked if anyone even cares about this story anymore. This chapter probably isn't the best either since it's shorter than I planned. But here it is. Feel free to review; I always appreciate and cherish those so very much.**

* * *

 _Chapter Six_

The door's creaking open mid-morning captures the attention of both young women who occupy the chairs that rest beside a large bay-window. A seemingly middle-aged woman of Hispanic descent comes walking in with a kind smile on her face and white coating covering over her floral-patterned dress—alerting them that she must be the therapist their doctor mentioned. She walks over to them and holds out a hand to shake theirs with.

"I'm Gloria Mendoza," she warmly greets, a light Spanish accent clearly heard. She gives a kind shake to each girl's hand before grabbing the empty chair from the other side of the room and setting a few feet in front of theirs. Occupying herself in the chair, she fold her hands in her lap and stares across at the two others. "Doctor Vause thought it'd be a good idea for me to stop by and meet with ya. I'm a therapist here in the hospital—work a lot with people who have been through traumatic events."

Nodding naturally, Lorna grabs her friend's hand—who she notices shifting uncomfortably in her chair—and instinctively feels a smile take form on her face. The therapist's voice is strongly soothing to her ears. Gives off a slight familiarity of a time before the abduction; yet, she can't make up the entirety of such memory. "I'm Lorna and this is my best friend, Nicky. She's not real sure about this…yet," she informs the older woman while stroking her fingers lightly over Nicky's knuckles.

"I know the thought of talking to a therapist isn't anyone's favorite thing to do but sometimes it's the best thing for ya. Believe me, I know what it's like to deal with trauma. I've endured some myself when I was in my twenties…and it's _not_ easy working through it, but I promise you both that _it will get easier_. _It will_ slowly help to take away some of the hurt," Miss Mendoza softly assures, eyes gazing compassionately between the two girls.

"But how the fuck does talking about it change shit? It ain't gonna do a damn thing but make us relive it all over again and I'm not doing that," Nicky glares displeasingly at the short-haired brunette, folding her arms defiantly over her chest. That's the last thing she wants is to discuss anything that happened with some woman they don't even know. Some woman who's only listening because it's _her job_.

The pain that so clearly emanates from her best friend's voice causes Lorna to wrap a tender arm around her shoulder. She gives a soft kiss to her head and sighs. On some level, she knows Nicky's words are true. Talking about all that they've gone through isn't going to change it. It's not going to give them those ten years back, she can agree with. But keeping all of that inside—that will only deepen their pain and anguish.

Gloria exhales slowly. Her words show just how much hurt she's harboring. And why it's so crucial for the both of them to be signed on as her patients. "You're right that _it won't change what's already been done_. But what it will do is help ya move on from it. Give ya the support ya need to work through all of this pain you've been left with. The both of you."

Lorna nods her agreement, letting her eyes focus on the flustered redhead beside her. "Let's just give this a chance, hon. Please?"

"Fine," a reluctant sigh of defeat, "But _only_ if we do this _together_. I'm only agreeing to this if it's something you want, kid."

The brunette tightens her arm around Nicky's shoulder and lets out a faint groan. Of course, Nicky won't think of herself. She shakes her head sadly at the thought. It's both an adoring and frustrating trait of hers. "We're gonna do everything together…I promise, Nicky. This will be good for both of us."

"I'm glad to hear it's settled. You're making a good decision, girls. Therapy will go a long way for the both of ya; I promise. It's helped me and I know it will help you as well."

With a shrug, Nicky stares intensely over at Miss Mendoza. "We're not talkin' about shit today. I'm not ready and I don't think Lorna is either…no matter how much she says she is," her tone stern and hard. She needs time before she has the energy to open up to anybody about the abuse. It's still too fresh—too raw to discuss.

"Nicky, please don't be so mean to her," Lorna softly whispers, laying the other's head lightly against her shoulder. Her fingers brush soothingly through her thick curls. She gives an apologetic glance towards the therapist along with a half-smile. "I'm sorry. Nicky's had a real rough few days in here—she doesn't mean to be so angry. But yeah…maybe today's not the best time to talk about anything."

"There's no need to apologize. You two have been through a lot; it's completely understandable that you're not ready to bring any of it up and _I'm not_ going to force it. I just thought I'd come meet ya guys today and set up a plan of care for the future," Gloria kindly points out, opening her appointment book to a blank page. She takes a pair of reading-glasses out of her coat's pocket and places them loosely over her nose.

Her eyes search through the dates until she comes across one that's seemingly untouched. She looks back up between the two women, "How about we meet again two weeks from today at ten in the morning? I'll give ya one a my cards with my office number so you'll know where to come."

Rubbing a hand comfortingly through her friend's frizzy hair, Lorna smiles and nods. "We'll be there," she agrees, taking the piece of paper and setting it on the small end-table beside her chair. "Thanks, Miss Mendoza. It was real nice meeting ya."

"Oh, you're very welcome," the Hispanic woman answers with a warm smile. She carefully gets up and starts making her way back towards the door. "And, please, just call me Gloria. You girls take care and I'll see ya soon."

* * *

Finally. Finally, Nicky ecstatically thinks as she finds herself throwing on a pair of freshly-bought clothes, they're getting the hell out of this place. A smile looms on her face at the idea. The new life she and Lorna will gain—freedom. Not having to fear for their lives almost every minute of each day or worrying about what breath could have been their last. No more of that. It's such a relief. A _big, huge_ , relief.

Red watches the two girls gather their belongings with a warmth filling her heart. It brings a comfort to her that they've both agreed to come home with her. Where she can keep watch over them and try her hardest to aide in their healing. Mothering the wounded has always been her calling; one of the many reasons she took to becoming a police officer. It wasn't because she liked to put away criminals—no she did it to help heal them. She knows there's always a reason for one's actions and prisoners are no exceptions.

"How's it feel to be getting outta here?" The Russian woman throws out the inquiry once the three are all settled into her car. Her eyes peer through the rearview mirror at them. A soft smile sitting on her face. Their closeness melts her heart. Though what they've endured is—no doubt—undeniably agonizing, at least they had each other. Something, she sees, was the only way for them to survive their captivity.

"Like a fresh start," is Nicky's honest reply. She snakes her arms protectively around the shorter woman beside her, tugging her to snuggle against her chest. Her lips stroke a warm kiss against the pale flesh of her cheek. It is a fresh start, she internalizes; knowing her mother probably hasn't even cared to look for her, she can create a new family. One with people who truly care about her. Who would never abandon her the way Marka did or torture her the way their abductor had.

A comment like that only makes Red's heart fill heavier. Heavy with both warmth and sorrow for the pair of them. How neither of their families seemed interested in finding them is beyond her. If she had any children and one of them had gone missing, she'd move Heaven and Earth to search for them. "I'm happy you both agreed to stay with me. I can certainly use the company and I'm sure you sweet girls could fare from a caring person for once, huh? Whatever you two need, all you have to do is say the word. I'll do whatever I can to help."

* * *

The minute they enter inside the house, a strong rush of comfort plagues through Lorna's body. There is a warmth it gives off—a security that visiting one's grandparents' house would instill. An intense aroma of vanilla and cinnamon fills her nose as she takes an intense look around the room. It's a beautiful home—a home that—no doubt—seems to be filled with warmth and affection. Not anything like the house she and Nicky spent the last decade in, she thinks. That house was a living nightmare. A house of terror.

" _Wow_ ," she breathes out as they follow Red into the antique-designed kitchen. Her head shakes in astonishment. "This is the prettiest house I ever seen. And it smells so good. Do ya live here all alone, Red?"

Making her way over to the stove where her hand-made Russian tea-kettle sits, the older woman can't stop the soft smile that spreads across her face. She nods while carrying the kettle over to the sink to fill it with fresh water. "My husband passed away a few years ago and so I've been the only person to occupy this house. But now I've got you two. You girls like tea? I have a new one I just bought—some kinda lemon ginger; it's supposed to be good for keeping down stress," she asks, setting the now full kettle back in its place and turning the dial for the gas.

The two give a slight nod in response before taking a seat at the wooden table that sits against a flower-patterned wall. Nicky takes in all her surroundings and feels a bout of warmth run through her. She's never been in a house that has felt so… _homey_. This is a place she won't mind staying, even if it's only a temporary solution. A house she can feel safe in; one that doesn't have a cold-hearted woman like Marka living in it. Or feels so stuffy that she can't even put her feet on the ground without having to wipe it each time.

"I'm more of a coffee drinker but I don't mind trying a little tea," she finally speaks up, throwing a half-smile over towards the Russian woman. "Thank you, Red, really. You didn't have to do this—to take two random girls in like ya have. We really appreciate that, though."

Red takes three cups from the china-cabinet and sets them on the counter while the water slowly heats up. Waiting for it to finish, she heads over to the table and sits herself between the two girls. She grabs each of their hands, smiling warmly at them. "Of course I had to; you girls need me, I sense it. And I'm happy to help. I've always wanted to be a mother but was never blessed with any children…so the least I can do is take two sweethearts like you in and care for you."

* * *

The first night in a new place—new bed—it's almost too much for Lorna. It takes nearly an hour for her to finally fall asleep and when she does, she immediately regrets it. A nightmare rapidly ensues; she's automatically put right back at the torture chamber. That evil room where all she and Nicky endured was pain and agony. Where their abductor spent hours and hours inflicting all sorts of abuse on them.

In her own bed, in the a room across the hall, Nicky's immediately torn from her slumber by the familiar whimpers of her best friend. The whimpers that make her heart soar so heavily for her Lorna. She hurriedly throws off her covers, jumps out of bed, and frisks her way down the hall to the brunette's room. What she walks into shatters her hear tremendously.

Quickly, she crawls in the bed beside her and snakes her arms tightly around Lorna's quivering waist. Lips stroke against soft brown strands of hair. "Shh, shh," her voice soothes into her ear, fingers caressing its delicate flesh. "Everything's okay; we're safe, baby. We're safe. You're just having a nightmare…wake up, doll. Come on. I'm right here."

That soft, comforting, voice gradually lures a distressed Lorna from her unnerving rest. Eyes peep widely out of their teary lids. She throws her arms desperately around Nicky's neck, hiding her face in its crook. "I'm-I'm scared, Nicky," she sniffles, lips trembling against the redhead's skin.

"Baby, you don't needa be afraid. I'm right here; _I've got you_ ," Nicky murmurs, pulling her closer to her chest; she rests the side of her face tenderly over the top of her best friend's head. What hurts worse than her own pain is seeing Lorna this way. Seeing what used to be her sweet, bubbly, Lorna so broken and drained. A shell of the optimistic little girl she was when they were growing up. That's what hurts the most for her.

"He's gonna come find us," Lorna sobs out, hands grabbing tight around each of the other's cheeks. She peers at her with big—disoriented—orbs. "He's gonna find us and kill us, hon—we have to, we have to—"

" _Stop, stop, stop,_ " the older woman soothingly hushes, stroking her lips comfortingly over Lorna's quivering ones. She cradles her hands delicately around her tear-soaked cheeks and lets their foreheads brush together. "He's not coming anywhere near us again, my baby. He's in prison and there's nothing he can do to us anymore. You and me— _we're safe_ , sweetie. I promise you we're safe. We got Red in our lives and she'll take care of us. We're gonna be okay here."

Sobs continue to shake through Lorna's petite body as she clings tightly to Nicky. To the only person in the world that she trust—the only person she knows will never lie to her or hurt her. She looks intensely into her eyes, noting the deep sincerity that seeps from them and nods her head slowly. "Red," she mumbles and nods again. "I-I forgot. I'm sorry…I'm sorry I woke ya, honey. I-I didn't mean to."

Laying herself down against the plush mattress, Nicky carefully takes Lorna's head and places it gently over top of her chest. She brushes a soft kiss atop her head, pulling on the comforter to wrap around the two of them. "Don't be," she whispers, lips touching warmly on the top of her head. "I rather sleep here with you anyway, Lorna. So I can hold ya and keep you warm. I love you so much, baby, and I promise we're gonna be okay. We'll always be okay if we have each other, yeah?"

Lorna meekly nods, cuddling her head closer to her friend's warmth. The warmth that always makes her feel safe and secure. The woman who always gives her the affection and love her heart craves. She wraps her arms tight around Nicky's neck and closes her eyes. "I love you, Nicky. You're the only person I trust." An honest answer, she knows; Nicky would give her life for her. There's no reason to not trust her words.

"I know, baby, I know. You're the only person I trust, too—but I think that will change the more we heal. We'll be able to trust more people and know that not everyone's out to hurt us. But until then I'm perfectly fine with just having you with me, my sweet Lorna baby."

The two women lay contently in the bed—snuggled into one another as much as they can be—and eventually drift back to sleep from the comfort and security being with each other provides for them.


	7. Chapter 7

**Author's Note: Thank you, Unnamed Guest and** **vausesandspanishharlem, for the lovely reviews on the last chapter. I very much appreciate that. I'm so very sorry, again, for taking forever to update this story. I've just been so busy working on my other story that I haven't been focused on this. Therefore I'll understand if people have quit reading this because of that. I'll be shocked if anyone even cares for this story anymore, honestly. Sorry. Please feel free to review, however, those always make me happy. Thanks. Enjoy.**

* * *

 _Chapter Seven_

It's only half past seven in the morning as Red hovers over a hot stove. She scrambles a batch of cheese-covered eggs on one burner while frying up fresh bacon on another. The delightful aroma hits her nose graciously; she smiles at her creation. It fills her heart with warmth to cook for other people again. Reminds of her the mornings she would get up at the crack of dawn to prepare a home-cooked breakfast for her late husband before his departure to work. Nurturing and nourishing others has always been a strong part of her nature. Makes her happy to have taken in both Nicky and Lorna—two young girls who so blatantly need a maternal figure in their lives.

The smile only grows wider when she catches a glimpse of the two very people cautiously entering her kitchen. She turns to face them after turning the heat down, looking both over thoroughly. "Good morning girls," she says, "How was your first night? I'm sure much more comfortable than the hospital, yes?"

Nicky, who's arm hasn't moved from its secure spot around the small brunette's waist, can't stop her mouth from curving up into a light smile. Anything is better than being in a hospital, she knows. But staying in a house like this—a house she can sense is full of love and security—is something she's always dreamt of. Something she never imagined would happen for her.

"For the most part it was nice. Thanks again, Red, for giving Lorn and I place to stay. It's been a long time since we met someone this kind," is her honest response. Even in school, she had no one to truly care for her well-being. Other than her best friend. It's such a foreign concept having a complete stranger willing to give them a home. Yet, it fills her with so much warmth.

Red nods intuitively, walking over to where her coffee pot sits and opens up the filter to place a fresh batch of beans. "Oh, really, you girls don't have to thank me. I wanted to have you stay here—it's so obvious you need a place and I could use the company. It's been real lonely here since the passing of my husband," she truthfully informs them after she's finished readying the coffee maker.

Eyes alert with an ever growing curiosity, Lorna stares over at the older woman with a sympathetic gleam shining through her face. "I'm sorry ya lost him—how long were ya married?"

"Oh, please, there's no reason to be sorry. I've come to peace with his death. We had time to prepare, to say goodbye and plan. He was diagnosed with cancer and we had six good months before he passed. Oh, let's see—I met him in my last year of high school and we married shortly after and he was fifty-three when he died…so just under thirty years."

"Wow," Lorna gushes, eyes glistening with a wavering interest. " _Thirty years_? Do you have any kids?"

Slightly nudging her on the shoulder, Nicky gives her a stern stare. One that informs her she's getting too personal with her round of inquiries. Something she knows her best friend is all too good at doing.

Turning the knobs of each burner off, the Russian woman removes both sets of pans to place on the granite countertops. She divvies out spoonsful of each onto three plates while glancing over her shoulder at the young brunette. "Long time, isn't it? No, I couldn't ever get pregnant—we did foster kids for a while up until his cancer diagnoses. Haven't done that for a while now…there's still a young girl I have contact with but that's as close to a parent as I've ever become. So, I adopted a kitten last winter—he's probably hiding up in my room; he's skittish around new people," she rambles while carrying two plates over to the circular wooden table. She motions for the girls to follow suit and smiles when they occupy two of the seats. It's been quite a long time since she's had the company of others.

Nicky grabs Lorna's hand under the table and holds it snug in her own as she listens to their conversation. She's not at all surprised to see Lorna easily taking to the motherly Russian—she's always been known to get along with others effortlessly.

"A kitten? Oh I just love cats! What's his name?" The younger girl's eyes wide with wonder.

A light chuckle escapes from Nicky—she throws an arm protectively around her shoulder and shakes her head. Leave it to Lorna to gush over a damn cat, she thinks with an affectionate smirk.

Red smiles as she carries the coffee pot over to pour in all three of their mugs. "Boris, I named him after the cat I had when I was a little girl in Russia. A chubby little tabby cat he is—I'll go search for him later after breakfast." She sets the pot back in its place before retrieving her own plate and joining her new housemates at the kitchen table.

"Ah, I knew ya had some kinda accent," Nicky subtly chimes her way into the conversation. "How long did ya live in Russia? What made ya move here?"

Picking up her steaming mug of plain black coffee, Red sips it slowly—the smile on her face slightly diminishing at such inquiry. "My mother passed away right after I began the junior high school and my father…he never really got over that, so, he shipped me here to live with a distant relative of ours," her tone filled with a faint pang. One of the few things she can't stand to discuss with anyone. She sighs and takes another sip of her coffee.

"I changed my name and created a new life for myself. That event is one of the main reasons I turned to fostering children, really. Hell, at one point, Dimitri and I had almost six kids living under this roof with us."

Having a much desired sip of her own steaming coffee, Nicky nods intuitively. If only her mother had the nerve to give her up when she was still a child—maybe she might have had the chance of being adopted, or fostered, by a woman like the one sitting beside her. A woman who wishes to better the lives of children/adolescents. "Those kids were real lucky to have someone like you willing to give them a home and care," she finally voices her opinion, eyes gazing ahead into the other's.

"I can only hope," she responds. She looks at the two girls with a smile. "Go on and eat. I'm sure it's been a while since someone's cooked you breakfast, huh?"

"The food looks real good and smells like Heaven," Lorna chirps, grabbing her fork and picking at a piece of scrambled egg. Once it hits her taste-buds, she realizes the taste is just as heavenly as the smell. Her eyes avert over to Red; a thankful expression seeping through them. "It's the best meal I've seen—thanks, Red. Where'd ya learn to cook like this?"

Spreading a layer of raspberry jam over her slice of toast, Red only smiles brightly at the heartwarming comment. "Watched my babushka a lot when I was little; I loved the smell of her cooking. Now, I like to keep my house smelling of the same scents."

Nicky shakes her head in disbelief, biting into her own piece of buttered toast. "You're a woman of many talents, yeah?"

With a light laugh, the Russian woman only shrugs. "I suppose," she mutters, having another sip of coffee. "Now, enough about me. I want to know who you two girls are—what on Earth happened for you to get in that situation?"

"I, being the wise twelve year old that I was, persuaded Lorna to skip school with me. And instead of a few hours a day of misery, that stunt landed us a whole decade of misery. Guess I shoulda stayed in school, huh?" Nicky chuckles, the only way she knows how to cope with her pain.

Tilting her head slightly, Red's blue orbs quickly fill with sympathy. She reaches across the table to cover a hand soothingly over Nicky's, letting her thumb stroke over pale knuckles. "You were a twelve year old child—it's a dumb choice anyone that age has the possibility of making. Now, that doesn't make what happened after okay at all. This man just picked the two of you up off the street?"

Lorna swallows uncomfortably. She immediately stops eating and sets her silverware on the plate. "What did ya say the cat's name is?"

Nicky notices the change of subject comes from a place of terror. She immediately pulls the brunette's head to rest softly over her heart, allowing her lips to press comforting pecks against her head. "It's okay, sweetie. Talking about how it happened isn't going to make him come after us…remember Red locked him up, yeah? We're safe now," she lovingly assures her, combing a hand delicately through dark waves.

Nodding her agreement, Red covers a hand over each of theirs. "He's never going to be able to hurt either one of you again, I promise. He's going away for life, don't you worry."

The redhead gives a grateful smile though her arm remains in place around Lorna's waist. "Good, then we have nothing to worry about. We can finally live without someone trying to abuse us," she says, trying to believe her own words. Trying to convince herself to see the truth in them—that she and her best friend never have to fear for their lives in the same way they had only days earlier.

"Even _thinking_ about it makes my stomach hurt," Lorna admits, eyes focusing down on her half eaten plate of food. She takes her fork and moves a piece of sausage around the plate—soaking it in the juice from the eggs. A faint lump forms in the back of her throat; she can't stand to remember how the two of their lives changed on that particular day. How one little decision cost them years of their lives. It was unsettling to say the least.

Massaging the tips of her fingers delicately along the outline of her shoulders, the older woman nods knowingly and brushes a soothing kiss atop her head. Of course, remembering and discussing what happened is painful and exhausting. It sits heavy on her heart often—she hates to think about the torture the pair of them has endured over the last several years. Loathes bringing it up even more, but realizes that may be the only true way for them to heal from it.

"Believe me, kid, the same happens to me—but it's not gonna make it happen again just by talking about it, remember that."

Red gives an encouraging nod, eyes looking them over with overpowering sympathy. "That's right. You've already endured the pain and survived it. All you have to do now is work through the pain it's left you with and overcome that. And yes, that's not going to be easy nor quick…but _it will_ happen, I guarantee you that."

"Ah, the one thing my dear best friend absolutely hates," Nicky murmurs, subconsciously resting her cheek against the brunette's. A tiny breath of air expels from her lungs. She cups a hand tenderly around Lorna's cheek, stroking its flesh softly with her thumb. "She hates talking about anything that causes her pain. Hell, I don't blame her…not after what that monster did to us. Even I'm not fond of sharing that fucked up shit with anyone. Way too raw and soon."

The sympathy only rises at hearing such comments. Blue eyes stare warmly at her two young housemates. She's had many children live under this roof with her—many of which who have endured painful pasts/home lives. But nothing as gut-wrenching as what she assumes these two young women endured. It eats her up inside to think of what kind of pain they've been caused over the last several years. And to know that their own families didn't care enough to search for them…that's something she can never comprehend.

"I know it's a lot to deal with. You girls don't have to share anything with me of what happened. Not if it's too rough—I don't want either of you to relive whatever you went through," she finally answers, placing a comforting hand on each of their shoulders. " _But_ I want you both to know that I will be here if you ever feel comfortable talking about that."

* * *

The sun shines brightly in the sky as Lorna sits on a wicker chair in the sun-room of Red's house. More of a home than her own growing up. At least from what she can remember of that life. A distant, almost faded, memory that is. She sighs, a content sensation washing over her. It's a relief to be able to do things without the fear of being abused or tortured. A smile gradually forms on her pale face; the warmth from the sun comes as a strong comfort to her.

Standing in the doorway, Nicky watches her adoringly. She slowly enters into the room and walks up behind the brunette. Her arms encircling around her head from the back. "What're ya doin' out here looking so sweet for, huh?" She inquiries while pressing a tender kiss atop her head.

"I'm just thinking," her voice softly answers, head instinctively leaning against the familiar warmth. She pats the spot next to her, tilting her head upwards to glance gently into Nicky's big orbs. "Sit with me, hon. It's such a pretty day out," Lorna softly commands, the smile on her face only growing.

Nicky nods and plops herself down right beside her best friend. She immediately snakes an arm snugly around her waist, pulling her to lay against her own body. Her face nuzzles against Lorna's. "What's on your mind, kid? Everything okay? Something bothering ya, doll?" The questions spill rapidly from her mouth, concern immediately taking up the expression on her face.

Resting her head on the taller woman's shoulder, Lorna reaches a hand up to lightly stroke against her cheek. She shakes her head with a loving smile. "Nothing's bothering me, hon—in fact, it's quite the opposite. I'm thinking about how lucky we are to be here. How lucky we are for escaping that house and to have Red in our lives now. I just…she seems like she really cares, ya know?"

Running a hand softly through her brown waves, Nicky gives a slight nod. It's a pleasant feeling to have met a person like Red—someone who truly does show empathy and affection towards others. Something she's never had with her own mother. Her mother who apparently doesn't seem to care that she's been missing for so many years.

"I think I know what ya mean. I like Red—even more now that we know a little bit about her past with how she fostered kids and whatnot. Kinda makes me wish my own loss cause of a mother would have just gave me up…maybe then I woulda had the chance to be fostered or adopted by a woman like her," she truthfully tells her, closing her eyes in dismay. Even referring to Marka as mother twists her insides. That woman wouldn't know how to be a mother if it hit her right in the face, she knows.

Hearing that forms an empathetic knot in Lorna's stomach. She wraps her arms warmly around her neck, pressing a comforting kiss to her cheek and sighs. "I guess that means you're not interested in finding our families, huh? I don't really blame ya…not like they gave a shit about us or anything," she mutters, laying her head near her best friend's gently-beating heart.

Nicky huffs out a scoff. Like hell she's interested in finding Marka—the woman who put money and men over her own daughter. Yeah, not even if hell freezes over, she thinks to herself. "Marka can rot for all I care, kid. She's probably happy I'm not there, she never gave a shit about me to begin with," the bitterness not hard to hear from her voice. A sigh escapes her as she tugs the smaller girl closer. "If you wanna search for your family, of course I'll be here to help ya. But how come they haven't took the time to look for you? Keep that in mind, baby."

"I'm so sorry," the brunette whispers, eyes gazing sadly up into Nicky's. She lays her thumb over the flesh of her cheek and caresses it lightly. "I wish I woulda known sooner that your mom was hurting ya…maybe I coulda done something—"

"Stop it, baby. You had absolutely no way of knowing; I'm good at hiding shit like that. Besides, you were kinda busy going through your own hell with your abusive ass father," Nicky sternly points out. Fingers brush softly through short waves.

Eyebrows curving curiously over muddled eyes, Lorna lifts her head slightly. Remembering life before the kidnapping is something she struggles with. Their captor did his best to erase her former memories, she unfortunately sees. "My dad abused me? I can't remember anything about my family, Nicky. I don't understand. Am I that weak that I let some man brainwash me? I mean _I must be_ since you still remember everything before he threw us into that torture contraption."

"Hey, don't fucking degrade yourself like that, kid. You're not weak—ya just, you're more vulnerable than most people…and that makes it easier for a sick man like that monster to manipulate ya the way he did. You're not anything even close to weak, sweet girl, look at all that we've gone through. And you still smile that angelic smile a yours," the older girl firmly informs her; her hands continuing to stroke her dark hair.

"I don't know. I still feel weak compared to you."

Nicky shakes her head and takes Lorna's into her hands. She leans their foreheads lovingly together, "Don't feel that way, baby. You're my strong girl. You fucking saved my life, kid. You are stronger than any other person I've ever met. And do not compare yourself to me, yeah? That's not healthy."

Nestling closer to her, a small breath of air escapes from her lungs. "Ya think I'da let you die? Not unless I went with ya. I couldn't live without ya, hon. You mean more to me than anyone on this entire planet. I love you," her voice murmurs, breath warm against Nicky's ear.

The palm of her hand cradled tenderly around her cheek, Nicky tilts her head and peers into her eyes with an overpowering softness. "You never have to even worry about what that's like. I'm always gonna be here with you. I love ya too, kid, so much and I promise we'll get through this mess together. We can survive anything as long as we got each other."

* * *

Two weeks slowly pass by. The two young girls gradually begin to ease into their new life in Red's house. She grows on them—quickly becoming a maternal figure that both, especially Nicky, never knew they needed. The care, affection, and stability she provides for them comes as a comfort. A heartwarming comfort that they've craved for ever since being locked up in their captor's basement.

Still, neither have brought up the events of what they've actually gone through—the pain too fresh and raw to share with a person they hardly know. However, Red doesn't push them. Only reminds them that she's willing to listen when and if they ever have the courage to talk to her about it. Something that warms each of their hearts tremendously.

* * *

A lump sits uncomfortably in the pit of Nicky's stomach as she sits beside Lorna in the backseat of Red's car that Friday morning—on the way to their scheduled appointment with Gloria Mendoza. She isn't fond of the idea of talking with a therapist, even if her best friend's right by her side. The thought of bringing up what occurred during their kidnapping or even past child abuse—it's too much and too soon, she deems it.

Peaking at the girls through the rearview mirror, Red gazes at them with nothing but the utmost sympathy. She can't even begin to imagine how hard it is to live with the aftermath of what's been done to them. To have to think about it as often as they do—she knows that must be exhausting and draining of their energy. A sigh tumbles through her larynx. She can only hope that seeing and talking to the therapist helps them cope somehow.

"How're you two feeling about this appointment? A little nervous I assume," the Russian woman gently breaks the silence with her inquiry. Eyes filled with compassion and empathy.

Taking Nicky's hand softly in her own, Lorna strokes her thumb lightly over her knuckles. She lifts her head from where it lay on the brim of the window and gives a small smile. "Yeah, but I think it'll be good for us. I hope so anyway," her eyes shift over to her best friend, love shining through as she realize just how anxious she seems to be.

"I'm only going because I don't want Lorna to do this alone," is Nicky's honest response. If it weren't for Lorna, she'd have never agreed to this. Therapy is the last thing she wants to endure. Dwelling on the past is not going to change the fact that it happened, she bitterly thinks.

Red nods sadly, still staring at them through the mirror. A sympathetic smile makes its way to her face. "I think it's a wise choice to meet with a therapist—I know you don't see this now, but I promise you talking about what happened will help you two to move past this. Just take it easy…I doubt she'll make you go into detail about anything today. You're the ones who decide when and what to share. Remember that."

* * *

Sitting in the waiting room only strengthens the anxiety Nicky's experiencing. Out of habit, she bites the side of her mouth while her eyes look nervously around the room. The pictures that decorate the warmly-colored walls are, obviously, supposed to induce relaxation but not for her. In fact, they seem to have quite the opposite effect. She sighs out of irritation. The only good thing is that she's not going through this alone. She reaches for Lorna's hand and squeezes it rather hard.

"It's not gonna be that bad, hon," Lorna softly assures, using her free hand to lay gently against the flesh of her pale cheek. Fingers stroke lovingly around it. "We'll get through this together, remember? You said we can handle anything together and the same goes for this. It won't be that bad."

Nicky inhales a deep breath and nods slowly. She wraps the smaller woman in her arms for a comforting embrace. Lips brush against the back of her head. She'll forever be grateful for having met Lorna in grade-school. A friend any person would ever be lucky to have, she thinks. A friend who's been there for her through the worst of times. "You're right, doll. We will. I just—you know I don't like getting emotional in front of complete strangers. Makes my skin crawl."

"You don't like getting emotional in front of anyone, Nicky," the brunette lightly jokes, a small smile sitting on her face. She snakes her arms soothingly around her neck, gradually pulling her closer to her own body. Her hands stroke delicately through thick red curls. "But seriously, ya don't always gotta be the tough one, ya know? Sometimes we all gotta breakdown. It's part a life."

"When did you get so deep, kid?" Nicky warmly chuckles, yet her eyes peer warmly down into Lorna's.

Lorna shrugs and lets her head rest on her friend's shoulder. "I have my moments."

Shaking her head, Nicky only chuckles once more before dropping a soft kiss atop her head. Leave it to Lorna to always find a way to brighten a dreary situation, she tells herself. "You're a precious soul, ya know that? Thank god I have you in my life, baby, I don't think I'd of survived half the shit we've gone through if I didn't know ya."

"That goes both ways, hon. I know I wouldn'ta survived any a that without you."

Before the conversation has the chance to go any further, Gloria Mendoza stands in the doorway—clipboard in hand—and glances over at the two with a kind smile, "Lorna Morello and Nicky Nichols?"


End file.
